With His Fool's Gold Stacked Up All Around Him

From A Killing In The Market On The War

The Children Left King Midas There, As They Found Him

In His Counting House Where Nothing Counts But More



CHORUS:

And He Thought He Heard The Echo Of A Penny Whistle Band

And The Laughter From A Distant Caravan

And The Brightly Painted Line Of Circus Wagons In The Sand

Fading Through The Door Into Summer



Well, It's Travel Onto "maybe Next Year" 's Places

As A Trade-in For A Name Upon The Door

And He Pays For Every Year He Cannot Buy Back With His Tears

As He Finds Out There's Been No One Keeping Score



CHORUS...