Gold

Looks as if you're dropping mirrors by the gross 
Looks as if your nine lives have left town 
When you paint in grey and drear 
Eldorado won't appear 
To run his sword through all the fears that pull you down 

And it's okay, for the setting sun 
Will colour everything around you gold 
And it's okay, for the setting sun 
Will colour everything around you gold 

Looks as if you need a lighthouse in your dark 
Looks as if I'm now your native guide 
When the fog is drawing in 
Snarling dragons break to grin 
And trample over all the things that pull you down 

And it's okay . . . 

And all those pebbles in your shoes are precious stones 
And all the skeletons in closets 
Merely piles of harmless bones 

. . . And it's okay, as the setting sun 
Will colour everything around you gold 
Even though it's brown, you'll 
See your old brick town go gold