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money is sleeping
under your breath
under the pillow
if it's not one thing
it's another
money will be Christmas yet
one shape
one more
all colours come
finely engraved – it's art
each note numbered
and such heartfelt views
heads you have to trust
interest only compounds
the miracle
just think of it
and you'll be poor
safe as houses
gold in bricks
bid up to a fever pitch
what are you worrying for?
money is sleeping
wild nights!
what dreams!
casino chips
fools' plastic
months before you start to pay
at ten per cent
you could live forever
all ghosts have come
to think this way
it's in a pocket
now it's not
the magic rabbit is sleeping
in the headlights dazed
there's not a burrow safe
it's at the bottom of the harbour
it's all in pyramids
on horses
clip coupons
cash a pension cheque
your lucky number must come up
add value
and fly frequently
lay-by
and on delivery
who's a girl's best friend?
what is there that cannot be hocked?
everyone freaks out if it burns
or rots or flushes away
you can't take it with you though
give it all to beggars
to the cat protection mob
it goes off like a two bob watch
how much is your bucket of prawns today?
money is everywhere floating
it's on the front page as well
and behind the sport
it's all between the lines
in every asset class
zero-sum?
we just count higher!
on screens
it's faster than the eye
it's like an illness
and we all cough -up
bloat and waste away
that coin the Seven Sleepers had
it won't buy bread today
you see that tattoo
on my forehead
net worth – that's a total
as of now
five digits, six?
the scone must be widened
as in the case of some dubious ancestor
you'd like to think relative
but money is absolute
nations are a market
and every realm is coin
who is there won't salute?
scrimp, save
then let's rein in
and tighten someone else's belt
tax is famously evaded
as in the roaring days
but when you're down and out
money – you've got lots of friends
everything depends on
must not wake
money is sleeping
ready to strike
it's the silence
that measures us all
ahh the sleeping money, the crux of it all at present. I like this poem.
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