There's no justice no more,
It's just filling accounts,
And it's the job of the judge,
To fix the amounts,
There's no justice no more,
It's the billing that counts,
And there's one thing I'm sure,
It's the billing that counts,
[Repeat],
With money you're a yacht with a following breeze,
With money you've got Lady Luck on her knees,
Poets, singers, citics all say you're great,
In front of a judge Perry Mason's second rate,
What use are laws where money is king,
Where poverty is useless and can't fix a thing,
Even cynics who sneer are rarely averse,
To turning their scruples to fill up their purse
If you profit the accounts of HRH Spencer,
Then Charlie and her father are sure to dispense her,
You can marry Diana with cash on the nail,
And make her and her father believe the same tale,
You can prove, disprove be a lawer of note,
Whose cases are filed for textbooks to quote,
Whatever you wish for, if you can disburse,
Will be yours if you've got a wad in your purse
I've always been told that the prettiest lasses,
Come from the upper and upper middle classes,
Who say you're somewhat overrated NME,
Your Elvis seems rather obvious to me
--
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