| He was born in a murderous fashion
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| The ass of the business class was his passion
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| Number by hustle he numbered his muscles
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| Honor by honest he fell down upon us
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| And everybody’s acting like they’ve heard something back
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| From my baby
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| My baby and me
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| Oh, castles and tassels and flatulent assholes
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| I love you
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| Always
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| Standing in the sunlight some might say
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| That her hair was falling down from the building that day
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| The silvery ball was down by the bridge
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| And she used to take pills in the woods where she lived
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| The man you scorned is self-revived
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| He hides his reproach with a hollow pride
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| And everyone’s a ghost as the lesson dies
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| And it’s fun, to be a dirty son
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| An' one day at the bottom of the hill where they play
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| She lost a gold coin and the troll would not trade her
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| They say she lost a fortune and she lost it to hurt him
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| Then he grew despondent 'cause she would not desert him
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| He laid out his hand and said «Make me an offer»
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| Then she asked the troll for just how much did it cost her
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| (You've got to have money, you’ve got to have money)
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| Then he told the troll that you’ve got to have money
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| (You've got to have money, you’ve got to have money)
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| Girl you tell your daddy that he’s got to have money
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| And castles and tassels and flatulent assholes
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| And you’ve got to have money, you’ve got to have money |