Description

She don’t want to hear you cryin’ again
Callin’ out your existential pain
Comes a time when every sensitive brain
Needs a taste of reality
Yeah, the money markets are wreckin’ your head
You shoulda bought commodities instead
Now you spend your whole day living in dread
Of impending mortality

My friend, tell me what it’s gonna take
To make you understand?
You can still do anything you want
When you’re free to write the plan

When you gonna realise how lucky you are?
You could be a boy child soldier in somebody’s war
Find that you’re a sex-trade prisoner with nowhere to turn
All I hear is one white male with money to burn
And a whole lot to learn
Money to burn, so much to learn

It’s true that you’re a self-made mystical man
Never had a daddy’s helping hand
Every little thing that’s at your command
Was the fruit of invention
Now you think some hell hound’s draggin’ you down
You face into the future with a frown
All I want to do is take you crosstown
To another dimension

My friend, tell me what I gotta do
To make you see for real?
You can still go anywhere you please
When your hands are on the wheel

When you gonna realise how lucky you are?
You could be an infant junkie screamin’ for more
Or clingin’ to a refugee boat waitin’ offshore
Knowing that your owner keeps every penny you earn
‘n’ all you get to meet each day are the tricks that you turn….
All I hear is one white male with money to burn
And a whole lot to learn
Still plenty to learn
Money to burn, so much to learn