Dollar Bill

I am the paper that buys the milk, pays the boys to take away the empties

Paper for the paper that hangs on the wall, and the paper that you read over your Shreddies

I am the pay rise that took you so long, the figure in your book that doesn't tally

You open your checkbook and find I am gone, for a payment on the freezer or the telly

I am the paper that pays the rent, for the tenement stairways full of children

I wrap the tobacco that blackens your lungs, and I am the friend who gets the drinks in

I'll tempt you with an oyster, or amuse you with a prawn, or twist you up with pain to die of hunger

I lead you with a carrot of security and warmth, till you're too old to use you any longer

Who is the leader and who the led? The busy man has no time to reply

Just give me your devotion, I'll see that you're fed, home and terribly dry