And close the day to think about something We dance to the melody of the times We count out feelings by Big Ben's chimes For here, no one is poor All of us are rich We have all lined up on the same side We are making money, that could never be denied The streets down here are paved with gold Or silver at least For we are living in the sunny Southeast You Northerners, Scotsmen and Welsh You know where your enemy's to be found In the soft, prosperous south bed South For here, no one is poor We all roll in it We've all lined up on the same side And we don't mind it's the North that's paying for it The streets down here are paved with gold Or silver at least For we are living in the sunny Southeast But as we see The real moneybags are pointing the way up a one-way street Then if they will then it's work to treat Oh let's politicize the North-South divide If it's not a question of class war We will save ourselves and let us stay poor