You tell of man who took a hundred dollars
spent it on lottery tickets and beer.
Won a couple of million, left his wife and children.
Lived himself to death in a couple of years.

Should have spent it on love.
Spend it on his children.
Spend it on the ones who need it the most..
take your little bundle put her in a basket...
leave her on the doorstep of her future home.

I hear of an army taken lots of money..
spending it on guns and rows of barbed wire.
Blew it all away...
there homeless and there hungry,
had to bite the bullet...
taste the bloody war.

Spend it on love.
Spend it on the children.
Spend it on the ones who need it the most..
take your little bundle put her in a basket...
leave her on the doorstep of her future home.

Well Johnny in the belly of a billionaire,
swallowed by the music he played.
Don't I have the right, that camera through the eye...
of a phonograph needle someday.

I hear of a country...
where they say the city's all have purdy streets...
that are paved with gold.
They may not be gold...
but they were built by people,
paying heavy taxes for a dream they still hold.

Spend it on love.
Spend it on the children.
Spend it on the ones who need it the most..
take your little bundle put her in a basket...
leave her on the doorstep of her future home.

Spent it on love.
Spend it on the children.
Spend it on the ones who need it the most..
take your little bundle put her in a basket...
leave her on the doorstep of her future home

Writer : BOB WALKENHORST
Copyright : Lyrics © UNIVERSAL MUSIC-CAREERS