The streets and roads
Are paved with gold
But no heart is left in them.
The Midas touch lies over this land
And has left the people heartless.

The streets and roads
Are paved with gold
But the crude and base
Have not suffered.

Instead, like Jason hunting the Fleece,
The glitter is what draws us
Stalks us
Kills us.

Your other master is left in the dust

And all you have is dust.

With airy smiles
That charm ad beguile,
We ignore the world before us.
Our minds are clouded,
Filled up with lies,
We miss the truth before us.

That Midas dream
Would be filling,
It seems,
But all that is left
Are streets and roads
Paved with gold
With no heart left in them.