| Nobody move and nobody gets paid
|
| What have you done with all the money you made?
|
| They said «Sell! |
| Sell!» |
| but there’s nothing to buy
|
| When mom and dad dream they see apple pie
|
| They yell «Eat! |
| Eat!» |
| but the taste has gone bad
|
| Now the ponytail police
|
| Counts all the money that we once had
|
| It’s nothing personal
|
| 'cause nothing’s personal
|
| It’s nothing personal
|
| 'cause nothing’s personal
|
| Nobody talk and nobody gets heard
|
| 'cause money talks without saying a word
|
| They say «Hey! |
| Hey! |
| What else can we kill?
|
| And where should we send the hospital bill?»
|
| They say «Oh, no! |
| There’s no way we can die!»
|
| But for all the money in the world
|
| There are just some things you just can’t buy
|
| It’s nothing personal
|
| 'cause nothing’s personal
|
| It’s nothing personal
|
| 'cause nothing’s personal
|
| But if everyone’s singing out
|
| And everyone’s dancing now
|
| There’s no reason for standing around
|
| 'cause we’re dead when we’re lying down
|
| If everyone’s singing out
|
| And everyone’s dancing now
|
| There’s no reason for standing around
|
| 'cause we’re dead when we’re lying down
|
| But if everyone’s singing out
|
| And everyone’s dancing now
|
| There’s no reason for standing around
|
| 'cause we’re dead when we’re lying down |