The coins how they complain
My pockets unstitched and maimed
Tumbling down my legs and gathering in my shoes
Shining silver piled high, lined with nickel and copper too

All accomplishments nigh and goals unfulfilled
Clangling loudly in this asphalt town the coins continued to spill
The wealth of my pockets paint the street as I walk
Unaffected and dejected as if the coins were dust and rocks

People stop and drop their jaws
A frenzy ensues
Flocking to the sugar like the ants they are
Abandoning their bikes and cars

Oh the coins dropped faster still
From the pockets woven without skill
And the tailor who follows behind
With his own pockets being filled

Metal clogs the sewers and the streets,
It kills every other plant as the sunlight retreats
But to me it looks like any other day
And I'll walk just the same

Weeping beside the bed of his daughter
Left poisoned from the rusty-coin filled water
The father pleads eagerly with god at first
Then with the doctor he paid, and then the nurse
"Please just make the sickness stop!" He begs the doctor in tears
The doctor whose face is already showing the signs of his worst fears
'PLEASE I HAVE ALL OF THESE COINS! CAN'T SHE BE SAVED!?"
Holding up the metal scraps which the whole town had craved
Speaking his sorries, the doctor looks down in regret
Places his hand to the shoulder of the man
He sighs and speaks clear as he stands
"I've done all I can."

But me I stroll on by as the disaster pours from my sides
Piling up before me are these problems bought by the one piling up behind
Walking along the beaten sidewalk with my coins rolling along too
In sync we step and roll together toward the town occupied by you