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It's difficult. It's very tough. I said to the man who'd been sleeping rough To sit within a fragrant breeze All among the nodding trees That hang heavy with the stuff He threw his arms around my neck He brushed the tear from my cheek And held my soft white hand He was an understanding man He did not even barely hardly speak Easy money Rain it down on the wife and the kids Rain it down on the house where we live Rain until you got nothing left to give And rain that ever-loving stuff down on me All the things for which my heart yearns Gives joy in diminishing returns He kissed me on the mouth His hands they headed south And my cheek it burned Money, man, it is a bitch The poor, they spoil it for the rich With my face pressed in the clover I wondered when this would be over And at home we are all so guilty-sad Easy money Pour it down the open drain Pour it all through my veins Pour it down, yeah, let it rain And pour that ever-loving stuff down on me Now, I'm sitting pretty down on the bank Life shuffles past at a low interest rate In the money-coloured meadows And all the interesting shadows They leap up, then dissipate Easy money Easy money Easy money Rain it down on the wife and the kids Rain it down on the house where we live Rain it down until you got nothing left to give And rain that ever-loving stuff down on me