THE WAY YOUR MONEY GOES

TUNE:- "The White Cockade"

  We all must own it to be true
  That without money we can't do;
  Which ever way our thoughts we bend,
  We find that money is our friend;
  And when we a supply obtain,
  Our wants demand it back again;
  So the subject which I now propose,
  Is to show the way your money goes.
  
  When only children first at school,
  How soon we learn this losing rule;
  The few pence given by a friend,
  We foolishly in toys expend,
  In toffy, cakes, and lolly pops,
  In sugar plums, in whips and tops,
  With every sort of fruit that grows;
  And that's the way your money goes.
  
  You grow up and the world commence.
  And you then find no small expense;
  You have to dress yourself quite smart,
  To catch the eye of a nice sweetheart;
  Then to treat her you begin,
  With brandy, wine, with rum or gin,
  You cut a swell while round it flows,
  And that's the way your money goes.
  
  When this life awhile you've led,
  You think you might as well be wed;
  And truly, it will make you sigh,
  To find you've every thing to buy;
  There's beds and bedsteads, tables, chairs,
  Cradle, clock and crockery wares,
  Kettles, pans, and things like those;
  And that's the way your money goes.
  
  Your wife, perhaps, will then be ill,
  And soon there comes a doctor's bill:
  Then each year you make a rule
  To take her down to Liverpool;
  For coaches then you have to pay,
  And places in the new railway;
  Take her to all the plays and shows,
  And that's the way your money goes.
  
  You're just got home, sat down content,
  The landlord calls in for his rent,
  And before he's well got from the gate,
  There's others for taxes and poors' rate;
  And if you don't pay when such comes,
  You get a visit from the bums;
  And if with them you get to blows,
  Why then in law your money goes.
  
  Your children may to work begin,
  And bring you a few shillings in,
  Your case is worse now than before,
  For they want it all laid out - and more;
  Your daughter soon will raise a bawl
  For caps and bonnet, dress and shawl;
  The sons won't stir without new clothes,
  And that's the way your money goes.
  
  There's lotteries, clubs, and banking schemes,
  Of independence oft you dream;
  And when you have some little made,
  There comes a dearth and down goes trade;
  At last you save with all your cares,
  Enough to keep you some few years,
  When death just tweaks you by the nose,
  You know not where your money goes.