Stinkin' of Gold
Down into the pit my mind is sore
But still I'm begging for more
Once more, Once more, Once more
Driving along the shore of my life
Down into that crib my sight is sore
But still I'm seeking for more
But what's more, what's more, what's more
Sinking inside the blood of my life
What are you made of?
Stinking of gold you feel so fine
What are you made of?
Is that a world you love
Is that a world you love
Up onto that hill your soul is bored
That's why you're asking for more
What more, What more, What more
Flying above the core of our lives
Down into the lies our existence is sore
But still you're selling some more
Some more, Some more, Some more
Killing the core of what we should stand for
What are you made of?
Stinking of gold you feel so fine
What are you made of?
Is that a world you love
Is that a world you love
What do you dream of
What do you fight for
It looks like a line that's slowly fading away,
Because in the depth of the mind
you're having a hard time assuming the inner self
which should nevertheless be cherished.
What are you made of?
Stinking of gold you feel so fine
What are you made of?
Is that a world you love
Is that a world you love
But still I'm begging for more
Once more, Once more, Once more
Driving along the shore of my life
Down into that crib my sight is sore
But still I'm seeking for more
But what's more, what's more, what's more
Sinking inside the blood of my life
What are you made of?
Stinking of gold you feel so fine
What are you made of?
Is that a world you love
Is that a world you love
Up onto that hill your soul is bored
That's why you're asking for more
What more, What more, What more
Flying above the core of our lives
Down into the lies our existence is sore
But still you're selling some more
Some more, Some more, Some more
Killing the core of what we should stand for
What are you made of?
Stinking of gold you feel so fine
What are you made of?
Is that a world you love
Is that a world you love
What do you dream of
What do you fight for
It looks like a line that's slowly fading away,
Because in the depth of the mind
you're having a hard time assuming the inner self
which should nevertheless be cherished.
What are you made of?
Stinking of gold you feel so fine
What are you made of?
Is that a world you love
Is that a world you love
Credits
Writer(s): David Potvin, Franck Potvin, Guillaume Bideau, Vincent Perdicaro, Clement Rouxel
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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