M.O.N.E.Y or Tis money makes the mare to go

From The Empire and Alhambra Songster (at the VWML) 

Money that makes the mare to go is a saying old but true.
And when you've got the ready cash your friends will stick like glue.
But when your purse is empty, those friends you thought sincere.
Will proudly turn upon their heels and quickly disappear.
It is then you murmer to yourself, "I must have been a fool.
To let those artful fellows make me their ready tool.
But if fortune smiles on me again, I'll bet  you will rely.
The only one that I will trust is my M.O.N.E.Y."

M.O.N.E.Y. that is the stuff to bring you joy.
When you've got the L.S.D. everybody seems so free.
Folk you've never seen before, flock around you by the score.
Girls to win your love will try, for your M.O.N.E.Y..

The parson preaches in the church, but does not do it free,
The Lawyer gives advice but then, he always wants his fee,
The butcher soon will smell a rat if funds are getting low
If you want your meat on credit he will quickly answer "No!"
The landlord too is so polite if you your rent can pay,
But miss a quarter and you'll find the bailiffs in next day.
And wives seem cold and distant if to stint them you should try,
And won't be civil till they get their M.O.N.E.Y.

How oft' a girl of eighteen weds a man that's old and grey.
And vows upon the alter to love, honour and obey,
She spends his money lavishly on jewellery and clothes.
And when his back is turned will put her finger to her nose;
She doesn't care a pin for him, but when he's by her side,
She'll smile and pat his wrinkled cheeks, and think it's time he died,
And oft' she'll meet a former beau at night upon the sly,
And on him she will spend the old man's M.O.N.E.Y.