Sunsets fade to night

and flowers die away,

the world is turning 'round

and you are turning grey,

money burns a hole

inside the wealthy's heads.

why do you insist

pretending you're not dead?



:chorus:

Sell your soul, sell your soul for

Sell your soul, sell your soul for free.



Bottles always empty,

leaves their prey alone.

lovers often leave you

waiting by the phone.

nothing seems to satisfy

the need for peace.

Jesus stands before you

wanting you to see.