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I would be a liar if I pretended to admire,
The redlight windscreen cleaning empire that you've built,
But my heart is good, it's not a thing of stone or wood,
I'll give you 50 cents to take away my guilt.

I give money to folk that just don't have enough,
To try to justify the future purchases of stuff,
That I don't need, I know that one less vodka cranberry tonight,
And I could feed some foreign family for a fortnight,
But I might just have one more,
After all, what is vodka for?
Apart from making you want to shag your best mate's wife,
And dampening the guilt you feel about your perfect life;

Fuck the poor, What is all this hoo-hah for?
There's only one reason that I'll phone 1800-0340-34,
It's the force that drove Theresa, and that school that Oprah built,
I'll give you $50 to take away my guilt.

Fuck the poor, I'm not pretending anymore,
That I really give two shits about some kids in Bagalor,
I'm more interested in footie, than seeing the Solomons rebuilt,
But I'll give you $50 to take away my guilt,
I'll give you $50 to take away my guilt.

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