[00:00.000] 作词 : zhen peng
[00:00.207] 作曲 : zhen peng
[00:00.414]In Wall Street’s maze, suits and ties sway,
[00:02.163]Gold fever grips their souls, wild ballet,
[00:06.576]Ticker tape stutters, whispers secrets,
[00:09.112]Numbers dance like tipsy fireflies.
[00:12.789]
[00:12.979]Gold, oh gold, you’ve lost your mind!
[00:18.932]Fortunes crumble, fear entwined, In this gilded waltz,
[00:24.169]we’ve lost our chance.
[00:27.032]
[00:28.621]Widow’s attic, clutching coins, whispers,
[00:31.659]“Gold, my love, tyrant of dreams,
[00:35.876]Pension dust,scant hope remains.”
[00:40.116]
[00:40.514]Artist’s palette drips molten hues,
[00:42.525]Canvas screams “Eureka!” in gold leaf,
[00:46.410]Yet hunger gnaws, rent unpaid.
[00:50.646]
[00:52.617]Beggar’s cardboard plea, absurd irony,
[00:56.421]Coins tossed, gold rains elsewhere,
[00:58.765]Poet’s ink-stained fingers trace despair,
[01:02.646]Riches vanish into thin air.
[01:05.800]
[01:07.279]Gold, oh gold, you’ve lost your mind!
[01:11.952]Fortunes crumble, fear entwined,
[01:14.705]In this gilded waltz, we’ve lost our chance.
[01:18.920]
[01:19.940]World spins, intoxicated by dust,
[01:23.970]Perhaps true wealth lies not in gold, But in trust,
[01:28.370]in hearts unburdened.

作词 : zhen peng
作曲 : zhen peng
In Wall Street’s maze, suits and ties sway,
Gold fever grips their souls, wild ballet,
Ticker tape stutters, whispers secrets,
Numbers dance like tipsy fireflies.
Gold, oh gold, you’ve lost your mind!
Fortunes crumble, fear entwined, In this gilded waltz,
we’ve lost our chance.
Widow’s attic, clutching coins, whispers,
“Gold, my love, tyrant of dreams,
Pension dust,scant hope remains.”
Artist’s palette drips molten hues,
Canvas screams “Eureka!” in gold leaf,
Yet hunger gnaws, rent unpaid.
Beggar’s cardboard plea, absurd irony,
Coins tossed, gold rains elsewhere,
Poet’s ink-stained fingers trace despair,
Riches vanish into thin air.
Gold, oh gold, you’ve lost your mind!
Fortunes crumble, fear entwined,
In this gilded waltz, we’ve lost our chance.
World spins, intoxicated by dust,
Perhaps true wealth lies not in gold, But in trust,
in hearts unburdened.