16 feet beneath the sea
Caroline, look at Mr. Gellman's shirt
He must've left a quarter
In the front breast pocket
You must've ironed over it, look
It's the head of the Father of our Country
Mr. George Washington
Seared into the fabric
Like the face of Jesus
On the Shroud of Turin
So I guess Mr. Gellman has to learn the rule
He loses any change he leaves
And you can keep it,
Just like Noah's, you can keep it
Just like Noah's
I don't want it!
I ain't some ragpick
Ain't some jackdaw
Of course you're not
I don't want your husband's money
Oh, it's not your fault about the quarter
I-
I got a load of laundry left
So excuse me, Mrs. Gellman
From now on I'll check every pocket
Put the money in the bleach cup
His and Noah's
Yours as well
Oh, I never leave my money in my pockets
My father would have whupped me
Smacked me
If I find money now
I put it in the bleach cup
And you people do
Whatever you want with it
Take the damn money, Mrs. Gellman
Stop bothering me with it
You need anything else?
You need anything, anything, anything else?
Now, you wait a second, lady
I got to iron now
Iron now, iron now
It cramped in here
And there's no air
So please get out
So my arm can swing
With this hot iron
And not hit nobody