Oh the shoes that I wear, cost nine cents an hour, Which ain't Norwegian union scale, but hell you know I'm there, They retire when they're twenty, with a house on a fjord, And when they're out of money they just go and get some more, And if you think it though you'll find as I've found, There just ain't enough pussy heaven to go round. And if all the Chinese hit the brakes at one time, The whole goddamn planet, would stop on a dime, The one side would burn up, and the other side would freeze, So if you feel the need to pity someone you can pity me. And if you think it though you'll find as I've found, There just ain't enough pussy heaven to go round. And the moral of this story is perfectly clear, While one guy walks the other sits on daddy's lap and steers, The one cup's made of silver and the other's made of clay, The rich don't ever seem to know they're rich anyway, And if you think it though you'll find as I've found, There just ain't enough pussy heaven to go round. And if we all bred ponies or sailed boats across the sea, Imagine for a minute what a mess that would be, Cause who would drive the garbage trucks, and who would sing the blues, And how could guys like me afford, to buy a pair of shoes, And if you think it though you'll find as I've found, There just ain't enough pussy heaven to go round. And if you think it though you'll find as I've found, There just ain't enough pussy heaven to go round.
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