My father makes illegal whisky,
My mother makes illicit gin,
My sister sells sin on the corner,
My God how the money rolls in.

Chorus :
Rolls in, rolls in, my God how the money rolls in, rolls in,
Rolls in, rolls in, my God how the money rolls in.

My mother's a bawdy house keeper,
Every night when the evening grows dim,
She hangs out a little red lantern,
My God how the money rolls in.
Chorus

My brother's a curate in Torquay,
He's saving poor girlies from sin,
He'll save you a blonde for a guinea,
My God how the money rolls in. Chorus
My Grandad makes cheap prophylactics,
He punctures the end with a pin,
Grandma performs the abortions,
My God how the money rolls in.
Chorus

My uncle is whittling out candles,
From wax that is specially soft,
He says it will come in real handy,
If ever his business drops off.
Chorus

My sister's a barmaid in Soho,
For a shilling she'll strip to the skin,
She's stripping from morning to midnight,
My God how the money rolls in.
Chorus

I've lost all my cash on the horses,
I'm sick from the illicit gin,
I'm falling in love with my blow-up doll,
My God what a cunt I've become.

CUNT, CUNT, my God what cunt I've become, become,
CUNT, CUNT, my God what a cunt I've become.