Son, son, we've got to run away from inheritance
Son, son, I must allow you to learn of sustenance
None of you will ever see a penny
Of my ill-begotten wealth
Stick around
You will see a rich man cry
I wish, I wish for you a lifetime of labour
Hard days make peaceful nights
None of you will ever see a penny
Of my ill-begotten wealth
Stick around
You will see a rich man cry
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