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With his fool's gold stacked up all around himFrom a killing in the market on the warThe children left king midas there, as they found himIn his counting house where nothing counts but moreChorus:And he thought he heard the echo of a penny whistle bandAnd the laughter from a distant caravanAnd the brightly painted line of circus wagons in the sandFading through the door into summerWell, it's travel onto maybe next year 's placesAs a trade-in for a name upon the doorAnd he pays for every year he cannot buy back with his tearsAs he finds out there's been no one keeping scoreChorus...
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