Текст пісні
Midas, Midas, Midas
Was it all that you hoped for?
Was it all that you planned in the palm of your...
Misdirection, slight of idle hands
Had me chasing an illusion
I'm fed up
Drinking from this poison cup
Take your golden touch
And your money lust
Keep your seat at the table,
I don't want what you're serving
I don't need your appraisal
Yes I know what my worth is
Can't make me feel worthless
I won't worship at your phoney idols
Or crucify them for the likes
of your disciples
I don't want no gram
I want my pound of flesh
I want what is rightfully mine
I think it's it finally time
Midas, Midas, Midas
Was it all that you hoped for?
Was it all that you planned in the palm of your...