I've had some lucky breaks.
I'm not proud.
I admit it.
But money breeds it's own mistakes.
I probably should have hid it.

It caused a lot of trouble 
with some sugar frosted flakes
who turned my little bubble 
into a den of snakes.

Each with their own agenda.
Patent liability.
Stupid to befriend a crew 
who'd set their sights on me.

John Lennon said it best.
"Money can't buy me love".
When I put it to the test
and push came to shove

those snakes all hissed and rattled.
They bared their fangs at me.
Embroiled and embattled
I learned that generosity

smells like weakness to a snake.
They looked on me as prey.
A porterhouse steak
and a bottle of claret.

A juicy bone to pick,
much to their delight.
They thought  that  I was just some trick
who'd rather flee than fight,

but those snakes, they were mistaken.
I'd forgone my three piece suits,
and now I'm busy makin' me
a pair of snakeskin boots.