| Your fifteen hundred bucks-a-month apartment
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| Is paid for by a numbered bank account
|
| You don’t care where it’s coming from
|
| To you it does come easy
|
| And a new financé always can be found
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| Wasting time on those meaningless possessions
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| Always longing for the things that you have not
|
| You can try and try again
|
| Your ambitions are in vain
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| When you should have known
|
| You’re rich on what you’ve got
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| For years you’ve been an excellent pretender
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| The virgin in your smile is not for real
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| But what kills you is the difference
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| Between the life you’re leading
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| And the worry of exactly what you feel
|
| Close your eyes and take a look at your depression
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| And the artificial things you do for love
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| When you try and try again
|
| Your intentions might be vain
|
| But the effort sure would help a lot
|
| For you to see
|
| We’re rich on what we’ve got
|
| Oh we’re rich on what we’ve got
|
| You don’t care about a thing you own
|
| To you they do come easy
|
| But with all you have
|
| You are still alone
|
| Wasting time on those meaningless possessions
|
| Running after what you’re never going to need
|
| Here you go and try again
|
| Will you hunger ever come to an end
|
| When you go through all the junk you’ve got
|
| You’ll find you really haven’t got a lot
|
| Close your eyes, take a look at your depression
|
| And the artificial things you love so much
|
| When you try and try again
|
| Your ambition might be vain
|
| But the effort sure would help a lot
|
| For you to see
|
| We’re rich on what we’ve got |