For the Money - Editors

Here’s where the wind leaves its mark across your face

And the ocean knows more than we’ll ever know

Wake from our sleep, we are crippled but unique

A cat in a bag meets the undertow

Make to the fields that are neighbouring your town

Take all that you can carry

Play with the fire and let the money burn

It only bought a lack of sincerity

Who’s gonna make us better

If we won’t believe there are things left to say?

And who’s gonna take away the slaughter

And put us to bed at the end of the day?

Here’s where the wind leaves its mark across your face

A perfect place to fall on your sword

Keep your hands to yourself, overestimate your wealth

Don’t touch what you can’t afford

Who’s gonna make us better

If we won’t believe there are things left to say?

We watch as the dust settles around us

Now put us to bed at the end of the day

And everyone says

One for the money

Two for the money

Three for the money

Four for the money

Five for the money

Six for the money

Seven for the money

Eight for the money