Rebecca McDonald - Making Money Lyrics

What else am I gonna do?
I like having a roof over my head
Like sleeping in a warm bed

I wanna quit eight times a day
Sometimes I think that my pay
Is just not enough
Because this work is rough

Maybe I'll quit my job and beg
Make something like 16 bucks a day
From people full of pity
Join the homeless population of this city

I could sell my underwear
To creepy people who would scare
Me if I met them in real life
Making money is a strife

I'll make sculptures with cereal
A full Michelangelo
Made entirely of cheerios
Yeah I think that that'd be pretty dope

How about I open my own cafe
Hang out with hipsters all day
Sipping on their frothy lattes
Writing scripts to a one man play

Maybe I'll learn how to breed frogs
Spend my days in swamps and bogs
Make them glow in the dark
Sell them at a lemonade stand in the park

Maybe I'll be a movie star
Appeal to fans wide and far
Impress all of the masses
But then I might have to take acting classes

I could be an instagram baddie
Or get myself a sugar daddy
Or dismantle capitalism
With my ukulele rhymes and rhythms

Or teach my cat how to do tricks
Build mini houses out of sticks
Learn to weave baskets
Learn how to carve caskets

Or sell cocaine to addicts
Sell the shit that's in my attic
Get into professional acrobatics
Have a child star son named Maddox

Learn to photograph birds
Become a poet who's good with words
Get good at hacking others passwords
Or open a shop that sells funny shirts

Ok well then fine
I will trade my precious time
On earth for a dime
Do my job until the day I die