Music-Rich,Dave

Lyrics-Ron 



The color

Of Money

Is the

Color of greed

Grab

What you can

Take

What you need

A wishful

Thinker

Lives

In the past

Climbed on

The world

That went by

Too fast

More temper

Than

Imagination

Portrait of

A losing side

Opinions formed

Without 

Taking time

To care



The stone thrower

Broke the windows of his glass house

Thoughtless search 

For a 

Scapegoat

A human coin

On edge

For a time

Having a fallout

All of his own

Hungry for 

Want of gentleness

A carnival story

With absence

Of scenes

Slightly tilt

And left

Of center

He can rum

A four minute mile

Just as long as

He was chasing

A fast buck



Sour man

Sit in the rubble

Of your own making

Feed off your own

Disillusions



When your irrational

It's always a sorrow

A thin line into

The dust



Sour man

Feed off your own

Disillusions

Sit in the rubble

Of your own makings