When I was just a child
My life was, oh, so simple
And the ways of the great world
Seemed strange and funny
Then when I was a young man
I learned of that machine
That turns out all those bales
Of precious money

Money, money, money, money
That money machine

Now, you can measure your manhood by it
You can get your children to try it
You can bring your enemies to their knees
With the possible exception of the North Vietnamese
It takes a strong hit
From the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world
Strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world

General Motors and IBM
AFL-CIO and all the king’s men
When I began the game
See me singing about the fire and rain
Let me just say it again
I’ve seen fives, and I’ve seen tens
It was a strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world
Strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world

Money, money, money, money
Give me that dough, give me that dough

Been living in the lap of luxury too long
Please, Mr. DJ, won’t you play my song
Maybe my baby will listen on the radio
Come back home to me
Help me spend my dough
I need a strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the goddamn world
Strong hit, babe, from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world

Money, money, money, money
From that money machine

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