Money....

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-0kcet4aPpQ

“MONEY ! oh money ! thy praises I sing, Thou art my Savior, my God, and my King; Tis for thee that I preach, and for thee that I pray, And make a collection twice each sabbath day.

I have candles, and all sorts of dresses to buy, For I wish you know that my church is called high- I don’t mean in structure of steeple or wall, But so high that the Lord cannot reach it at all.

I have poor in my parish who need some relief – I preach to their poverty, pray for their grief; I send my box round to them, morning and night, And hope they’ll remember “the poor widow’s mite.”

I gather my knowledge from wisdom’s great tree, And the whole of my Trinity is £,s, and d ; Yes, pounds, shillings, and pence, are all that I crave. From my first step on earth to the brink of the grave.

When I’m laid low, and my body at rest, Place a box on my grave, – ’tis my latest request, That friends may all see who come for reflection, I can’t rest in peace without a collection.

Money’s my creed, I’ll not pray without it, My heaven is closed ‘gainst all those who doubt it; For this is the essence of parson’s religion- Come regular to church and be plucked like a pigeon.

My pay may be hundreds or thousands a year- Double it, treble it, still I’ll be here With my box or my bags, collecting your brass, For I can’t do as Jesus did -ride on an ass.

I’ll have carriage and horses, and servants, and hall, – I am not going to foot it, like Peter and Paul; Neither like John – live on locust and honey, – So out with your purses, and down with your money.

Fools sometimes ask what I do with this money ! They might just as well ask what bees do with honey ! I answer them all with a wink or a nod; I keep three-birds myself, and give praises to God.

In the cold silent earth I may soon be laid low, And sleep with the blest that went long ago; I shall slumber in peace till the great resurrection, Then be first to my legs to make a collection.”

Money can...

create

provide

and

deceive...