With his fool's gold stacked up all around him
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From a killing in the market on the war
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The children left King Midas there, as they found him
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In his counting house where nothing counts but more
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[Chorus:]
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And he thought he heard the echo of a penny whistle band
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And the laughter from a distant caravan
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And the brightly painted line of circus wagons in the sand
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Fading through the door into summer
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With his travel logs of 'maybe next year' places
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As a trade-in for a name upon the door
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And he pays for every year he cannot buy back with his tears
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As he finds out there's been no one keeping score
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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The Door Into Summer
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The Monkees |