My father makes books on the corner,
My mother makes illicit gin,
My sister sells kisses to sailors,
My god how the money rolls in!

Chorus:
Rolls in, rolls in,
My god how the money rolls in, rolls in,
Rolls in, rolls in, my god how the money rolls in

My mother’s a bawdy house keeper,
Each night when the evening grows dim,
She hangs out a little red lantern,
My god how the money rolls in!

Chorus

My cousin’s a Harley street surgeon,
With instruments long, sharp and thin,
He only does one operation,
My god how the money rolls in!

Chorus

Uncle Joe is a registered plumber,
His business in holes and in tin,
He’ll plug up your hole for a tenner,
My god how the money rolls in!

Chorus