In the eyes of the world your touch is like gold

Your reputation's so cool and cruel and

controlled

You count your money in your prison tower

Made of concrete, glass, and steel

Feeling cozy in the hallow warmth

Of another business deal



You've climbed your way to the top, but lately

it seems

That there's a hole in the heart of the

American dream

Sitting pretty in your trophy room

With your shining souvenirs

That just remind you of the wasted time

And the lateness of the years



Is that all?

Is that all there is?

Is that all?

There must be more than this



In the eyes of the world your touch is like gold

Your reputation's so cool and cruel and

controlled

In a moment it could all be gone

In the twinkling of an eye

Then what's your pile of precious pride worth

then?

If you've ever wondered why



Is that all?

Is that all there is?

Is that all?

There must be more than this



Is that all?

Is that all there is?

Is that all?

There must be more than this

More than this

Is that all there is?

All there is?

Is that all there is?

All there is?

Is that all there is?

All there is?

Is that all there is?

All there is?