its turned from two to three
fly around oh that worker bee
set 'em out like a bottle to sea
hope one day to be set free

hand is steady from the thrill
half empty glass that will never fill
give another one of those green bills
heart of hearts as small as krill

look at me we are but kin
wielded like a bat to my shin
walk around cut throats on a whim
catch that shark for the fin

is it for the fame
that you carry this shame
or is it for the money
come on tell the truth, honey