Money - Smoove & Turrell

Battalions of bedlam boys

Hit the town every night

Clenched up fist, drunken tongue

Bound to cause a fight

Outsiders in their home town bars

With the blacked out windows and the burned out cars

Kids drinking under the moon lit stars

No money in the bank

When the hole’s closed

And the black stuff goes

All that’s left is drugs and holes

From the high lights to the low lights

No longer hear swans sing

No longer cranes up in the sky

They crashed and fell to earth

And the kids kick 'round with nothing to do

It’s been their right from birth

Oh, how you gonna turn back time?

(Money)

Not what we’re thinking of

Nothing but a straight up lie, come on

Come on, how you gonna give back pride?

(Money)

Not what we’re dreaming of

Nothing but a straight up lie

From the picket lines, to the wicked times

We just can’t breath

Every man needs his shelter

Every man has got his own needs

Look to you for answers

Your motives all we found

When the coffers coughed into an empty trough

We’re gonna march upon your town

Oh, how you gonna turn back time?

(Money)

Not what we’re thinking of

Nothing but a straight up lie, come on

Come on, how you gonna give back pride?

(Money)

Not what we’re dreaming of

Nothing but a straight up lie

How deep you gonna cut

When you’re cutting through the bone?

How much you gonna push?

'Til a man can lose his home?

See the needs of many

But you’re only pleasing your self

How long the average man

Gonna feel the discontent?

Oh, how you gonna turn back time?

(Money)

Not what we’re thinking of

Nothing but a straight up lie

Come on, how you gonna give back pride?

(Money)

Not what we’re dreaming of

Nothing but a straight up lie

Oh, how you gonna turn back time?

(Money)

Not what we’re thinking of

Nothing but a straight up lie

Come on, how you gonna give back pride?

(Money)

Not what we’re dreaming of

Nothing but a straight up lie