Coins
If we throw only coins
We've got a lot of money
To throw at the problem
We listen to the ringing
A tiny noise in the dusk
That almost sounds like music
We have washed our bills
And hung them on a clothesline
We watch them dance in the wind
We watch them dry and wither
When the money's gone
Where does it go
Does it go to heaven
We sit in silence
Just our bodies
And the work of our hands
When the money's gone
Where does it go
Does it go to heaven
Whom you serve will be your master
We have served it for to long
