Music-Rich,Dave Lyrics-Ron The color Of Money Is the Color of greed Grab What you can Take What you need A wishful Thinker Lives In the past Climbed on The world That went by Too fast More temper Than Imagination Portrait of A losing side Opinions formed Without Taking time To care The stone thrower Broke the windows of his gla** house Thoughtless search For a Scapegoat A human coin On edge For a time Having a fallout All of his own Hungry for Want of gentleness A carnival story With absence Of scenes Slightly tilt And left Of center He can rum A four minute mile Just as long as He was chasing A fast buck Sour man Sit in the rubble Of your own making Feed off your own Disillusions When your irrational It's always a sorrow A thin line into The dust Sour man Feed off your own Disillusions Sit in the rubble Of your own makings