I gotta itch for bein’ rich
I am King Midas with a thirst for gold
My gilt possessions are never fit
That keeps me searching near; and afar for gold
Now a favour doled:
Dionysus for the art cajoled
Of the “touch of gold”

I ringed my jolly wood, I skinned my head rood
I scoffed at lotion for to wax the pole
Obscene thoughts: my mind, A u now inclined
Oh bleep-it! Stanchion’s now a part of gold!
Now I’ve taken hold
Seen mythology turn part to gold
(What a dud, was sold)...

Ain’t no pyrite, was imparted gold
I think Di’nysus’ joke is growing old
Sleep, it’s hurting when I’m rolling o’er
Decree it’s shrine, bow to my part of gold