There’s a mountain and it’s mighty high
You cannot see the top, unless you fly
There’s a molehill, of proven ground
There ain’t nowhere to go if you hang around

Everybody wants to sell what’s already been sold
Everybody wants to tell what’s already been told
What’s the use of money
If you ain’t gonna break the mold
Even at the center of the fire, there is cold
And all that glitters ain’t gold
And all that glitters ain’t gold

There’s an ocean, of despair
There are people livin’ there
They’re unhappy, each and every day
Hell is not fashion, so whatcha tryin’ to say?

Everybody wants to sell what’s already been sold
Everybody wants to tell what’s already been told
What’s the use of money
If you ain’t gonna break the mold
Even at the center of the fire, there is cold
And all that glitters ain’t gold
And all that glitters ain’t gold

There’s a lady, ninety nine-years-old
If she led a good life, heaven takes her soul
That’s a theory and if you don’t want to know
Step aside and make a way for those who want to go…