Gold

Looks as if you're dropping mirrors by the gross

Looks as if your nine lives have left town

When you paint in grey and drear

Eldorado won't appear

To run his sword through all the fears that pull you down



And it's okay, for the setting sun

Will colour everything around you gold

And it's okay, for the setting sun

Will colour everything around you gold



Looks as if you need a lighthouse in your dark

Looks as if i'm now your native guide

When the fog is drawing in

Snarling dragons break to grin

And trample over all the things that pull you down



And it's okay . . .



And all those pebbles in your shoes are precious stones

And all the skeletons in closets

Merely piles of harmless bones



. . . and it's okay, as the setting sun

Will colour everything around you gold

Even though it's brown, you'll

See your old brick town go gold


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