It never made sense to mix music with the money
Even when elevator music made some money
It never did, it never will
It always sounds so very phony

The things we brag about will never have a meaning
And what we rap about will always be demeaning
It always has, it always will
Pretending we are never lonely

A ship of fools with new ProTools looking for money
You’re just a tool, a molecule that thinks it’s funny
That no one cares, that no one dares
To say that no one’s really listening

Where do I turn? Nowhere to turn, I’m just existing
What is my bliss? What do I miss when I am twisting?
Money flows but never knows
The soulful cry of what is missing

Should I be angry that the music has no meaning?
Can I find peace when it seems everyone is screaming?
A work of art, my restless heart
Am I the only one still dreaming?

Oh well, time will tell if we have lost it, if we can find it
Oh well, time will tell, the ill-begotten won’t be forgotten
If inside each heart we admit that we’ve lost our way

Oh well, time will tell if we have lost it, if we can find it
Oh well, time will tell, the ill-begotten won’t be forgotten
If inside each heart we admit that we’ve lost our way

Oh well, time will tell
Oh well, time will tell
Oh well, time will tell
Oh well, time will tell
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Words, music, recording, and production by Richard Faylor
© Deep Happy Music
richardfaylor@yahoo.com
208-713-4002