Came of age in the depression, didn’t have a cent
Gave his paper route money to his folks to help pay the rent
And he vowed back then that when he grew up he would never be 
poor again
No, he’d have money someday

Took a job at fourteen in the retail trade
And he saw right away there was money to be made
Went off to war for a while and when he came home to stay
It was time to start making money today

Now he sits in his chair with a drink or two, maybe more
After all, he had a long hard day working at the store
So his wife cooks and cleans for him and his kids do all the chores
He deserves it, he says, he made money today

Somewhere on the way it took over his life
No more quality time for his kids and his wife
He’d rather spend his time making money today

As the years rolled on and his bank account grew
He was free to do whatever he wanted to
But he sat in his chair with a drink or two
‘Cause he’d just as soon make more money today

Now his chair sits empty and worn with age
His Wall St Journal open to the financial page
They buried him yesterday morning with a funeral parade
And he still made money today
Too bad he can’t take it with him beyond the grave.