You know, the poke is full of cash;
it’s topping off the till.
Into it I’ve been stuffing
a huge shitload of bills.
But now I think the time has come to take some
and move dough to my side.
This purser wants his share—
my time no longer I will bide.

Bad man, this purser.
Bad man, OK, this purser.
I fess: bad man, I plan a purser scam.

Yes, I’m a stealer, a stealer type of man
and I love cash in my hand,
’cause this purser’s like a mobster—
“Gelt’s gone!” they’ll lament when I lam.
I’m stealing more than nickels,
gorging on those bills of sweet green.
I’m a purser doing something naughty
I will leave naught, I’ll leave naught…split the scene.

Bad man, this purser.
Bad man, OK, this purser.
I fess: bad man, I plan a purser lam.

Well quite soon I won’t be a resident of this land;
when I snag the swag, I’ll go, laughing, on the lam.
My cut is pretty grand,
so I’m gonna cut and run.
Yes, the till, I’m pleased, was quite full,
but I razed it 1s by 1s.

Bad man, this purser.
Bad man, OK, this purser.
I’m set to scram; the lam this purser plans.