We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Please. That is not Michael Jackson. That is Heather before she lost one of her flippers. And Paul just gave her a bunch of money. So there. Except it sounds to me Paul shoulda taken his own advice and hid his love away and he'd have more money because you can never have enough money or cool lyrics and never be naughty and let your knickers down if she can't stand on her own two feet.
You know he's just going to write another silly love song. Something to the tune of 48 million dollars. So what's wrong with that?
Say you don't need no diamond ring
and I'll be satisfied
Tell me that you want the kind of thing
that money just can't buy
I don't care too much for money,
money can't buy me love
Can't buy me love, everybody tells me so
Can't buy me love, no no no, no
The Beatles - Can't Buy Me Love