I rose up at the dawn of day Get thee away! get thee away! Prayst thou for riches? Away! away! This is the Throne of Mammon grey. Said I This, sure, is very odd I took it to be the Throne of God For everything besides I have It is only for riches that I can crave I have mental joy, and mental health And mental friends, and mental wealth Ive a wife I love, and that loves me Ive all but riches bodily I am in Gods presence night and day And He never turns His face away The accuser of sins by my side doth stand And he holds my moneybag in his hand For my worldly things God makes him pay And hed pay for more if to him I would pray And so you may do the worst you can do Be assurd, Mr. Devil, I wont pray to you Then if for riches I must not pray God knows, I little of prayers need say So, as a church is known by its steeple If I pray it must be for other people He says, if I do not worship him for a God I shall eat coarser food, and go worse shod So, as I dont value such things as these You must do, Mr. Devil, just as God please
mental, rich, pray, god, away