| Dollar, Dollar |
|---|
| A boy stares through the glass |
| He’s saying, «Dollar, dollar» |
| Three lines of traffic pass |
| We’re trapped inside our car |
| His voice says, «Dollar, dollar» |
| I turn to you to and ask |
| For something we can offer |
| Three lines of traffic pass |
| We pull away so fast |
| All my words get swallowed |
| In the mirror glass |
| A face pock-marked and hollow |
| Is saying, «Dollar, dollar» |
| I can’t look through or past |
| A face saying, «Dollar, dollar» |
| A face pock-marked and hollow |
| Staring from the glass |
