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The Lottery Monster

Get you purses out ladies
And rattle your cash
Get along to the ticket-booth
Go have a bash;
Your pounds and your pennies
I'm longing to see
I'm the Lottery monster
So listen to me.

The Lottery monster
He has to be fed
He lives on cold cash
Just as you live on bread;
So throw any caution you had
To the wind
Your jackpotted dreams
To six numbers are pinned.

The holiday money
You keep in that tin
Could net you ten million
'Cause SOMEONE must win;
So search out your cash
In your jackets and jeans
Your husband can diet
The kids can eat beans.

Look it isn't a crime
So go on, have a flutter
Never mind that it's needed
For bread and for butter;
Reduce all the chatting
You do on the 'phone
Let the fire go out
And then go get a loan.

See according to all of
The facts and the data
You're bound to start winning...
Sooner or later;
And there's always next week
If your numbers weren't right
But I won't be skint
On a Saturday night.

Written March 1996

poem by John Carter Brown
Added by Poetry Lover
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