The Holdup - David Bromberg

Stick up your hands

You must stand and deliver

My stomach’s empty

My clothes are all torn

Open your hearts to the joys of the giver

Only your pockets are terribly worn

This is a holdup

No way to mistake it

We’re men of violence

So don’t fool around

If you have money

We’re going to take it

You try and stop us

You’ll end underground

When we get your money

We’ll ride towards the sunset

At Rosa’s Canteen

We’ll stop by the door

We’ll spend all your money

Just getting the nose wet

Tomorrow evening

We’ll be back for more

So hand us the money

Don’t stand there and shiver

Tax time is coming

Give alms to the poor

Or I’ll put a bullet right through your best liver

Wealth is disease

And I am the cure

When we get your money

We’ll ride towards the sunset

At Rosa’s Canteen

We’ll stop by the door

We’ll spend all your money

Just getting the nose wet

Tomorrow evening

We’ll be back for more

So hand us the money

Don’t stand there and shiver

Tax time is coming

Give alms to the poor

Or I’ll put a bullet right through your best liver

Wealth is disease

And I am the cure