Chase the dollar, the euro, the pound.
Money's your god and you cannot be found
when your child needs their mummy or daddy
cos they're out on the ran dan, leaving gran with the baby
Dinner dances, formal wear, make up on, rollers out of her hair
Her earrings are sparkling and and her evening gown red
Her husband is lying in another man's bed,
making love to a woman who is not his wife
He thinks he can do whatever he likes
Because he has money and and just says, 'Name the price'
And along comes March 2020, the Covid and lockdown
He loses his money cos the shops are not open
He can't sell cars, or make a fast buck
by selling his shares, cos they've all gone to fuck
down the tubes, up the spout, and his car has broke down
He goes home to his wife and she's wearing a frown
'I'm taking the kids and I'm leaving you mate.'
'My taxi is coming at quarter to eight.'
She's sold the house, quit her job, to start over again
In a place far away with the kids and her new man (who is filthy rich)