He's not a crook, he only doesn't like your triage
And neither does he like being forced to never force
For someone claiming not to care 'bout money
He's got a lot to say 'bout how you're doing too well, oh well
Don't let him in
Do what you like but keep your fingers off my wallet
Do what you like but keep your ears off my wall
With the aid of those you don't know
You know it never will show what your hands have done
It's only that he doesn't trust you with the yield
Left to your own means, you won't lay'em on his deeds
You want the local fair to bloom in weekends
And bribe the healer to alarm the bricksters at night
That's well, but don't drag me in
Do what you like but keep your fingers off my wallet
Do what you like but keep your downers off my call
With the aid of those you don't know
Your incitements never will grow till the guns have gone
Is he afraid to risk a choice that isn't right?
Or just afraid that other's right ain't what he'd like?
What do you want from me that isn't of my wallet?
What can I do for you that doesn't crave your threat?
With the aid of those that you heed
You forgot how to tell need from greed
Leave me out of there

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS