Your Money Makes Me Crazy

In order for us to make this deal happen; first, I'll need you to back up: then, I scramble my hair, remove a piece of clothing, and make high pitched, whelping sounds.

I get money because for two hours, I am your monkey. Enjoy it.
What you don't know is that I am buttering you up, so that I can dump all over you. You've probably been planning on keeping that money from me for a couple hours; if at all. But everyday, I have to find new ways of pitting my time and effort, against your time and effort, in order for me, my boss, their boss, the people who build this shits life to make sense.

All I am getting at is, for this relationship to go anywhere, one of us'll hafta get screwed; and I'm not the one wearing pink today.

Humans get money from out there, and coral it within thier steeple, and I am the thresher of human resource. Like mining scallops from a pond, you make me dig deep for everything you got.

I dont mind. I got a big spoon, and that means more pudding.
Yes. We all get it.

Enough with the feelings.