by Nick Gisburne
Though the size of it, the weight, the wonder, overwhelms his mind
There is nothing he can do but pile it high
In the chaos of his castle it’s impossible to find
Any answer, any rhyme or reason why
In the stinking piles of treasure, is there gold?
Is he proud of every dirty, dusty prize?
In his eyes, however broken
He finds another token
Of a world which never sees him getting old
There are avenues and alleyways. His corridors collapse
On the summit of a stockpile lies a bed
When he finds a piece of pleasure he imagines that perhaps
Someone else will see the story in his head
In the stinking piles of treasure, is there truth?
Is he proud of what his kingdom has become?
In his eyes, however broken
He finds another token
Of a system he rejected in his youth
He believes that there is nothing better, nothing more than this
There is order. There is purpose to the plan
When he crawls into a corner, finds a bottle, takes a piss
No one tells him how to be a better man
In the stinking piles of treasure, is there hope?
Is he proud of how he spends his final days?
In his eyes, however broken
He finds another token
Of a system too insane to spare him soap
There is nothing he can do but pile it high
No one ever thinks to find the reason why
In the stinking piles of treasure, is there peace?
Is he proud of what his palisade becomes?
In his eyes, however broken
He finds another token
Of a system where the pressures never cease
In a system where he longs to find release
Lyrics by Nick Gisburne
Music and vocals created by Suno
