You're going down, down, down
Craving ease and wealth
The world is round round round
You only meet yourself
You're getting high, high, high
You promise and you lick
If you're a one trick pony
Better know your shtick
You're getting good, good, good
At acting as you're told
When will your faith, faith, faith
Start turning stones to gold?
Or will it turn your head and
Pockets inside out?
Is it the doctor or a preacher
That will cope with your doubt?
You are so wise, wise, wise
Still it hit you hard
What a surprise, prize, prize
You find yourself debarred
'Cause what you do, do, do
Is never fraud nor theft
But your actions are so big that there's no room for you left
