Written and Sung by James Dunn.
Money makes the mare to go, is a saying old and true.
And when you got the ready cask, your friends will stick like glue;
But when your pocket's empty, those friends you thought sincere,
Will proudly turn upon their heel, and quickly disappear.
'Tis then you murmur to yourself: I must have been a fool,
To let those artful fellows make me their ready tool;
If fortune smile on me again, 'tis then you can rely,
The only friend that I will trust, is m-o-n-e-y.
M-o-n-e-y, that is the stuff to bring you joy.
When you've got the dust, you see everybody seems so free;
Folks you never seen before, will flock around you by the score,
And girls to win your love will try, for your m-o-n-e-y.
The parson preaches in the church, he does not do it free.
The lawyer, he will plead your case, but he always wants his fee;
The butcher quickly smells a rat when funds are getting low.
And if you want your meat on tick, he'll quickly answer: No!
The landlord smiles upon you if you your rent can pay.
But miss a month and you will find your sticks in the street next day;
Your wife seems cold and distant if to stint her you will try,
And won't be civil till she gets your m-o-n-e y.-Chorus.