What Is the Measure of Your Success - Steve Taylor

In this city I confess

I am driven to possess

Answer no one, let them guess

Are you someone I impress?

I am a big boss with a short fuse

I have a nylon carpet and rubber shoes

And when I shake hands, you’ll get a big shock

You’ll be begging for mercy when the champ is through

You better believe I’ll put my clamps on you

In this city, be assured

Some will rise above the herd

Feed the fatted, leave the rest

This is how we won the west

I am a safebox, I am the inner sanctum when the door locks

I hold the passkey

You say you can’t take it with you?

We’ll see about that won’t we?

Push… push… push

In the city, I confess

God is mammon, more is less

Off like lemmings at the gun

I know better, still I run

I am an old man

And the word came

But you can’t buy time or a good name

Now when the heirs come around

Like buzzards on a kill

I see my reflection in their envious eyes

I’d watch it all burn to buy another sunrise

Some men find the fire escape

Old men learn it all too late

Push… push… push the alarm

Old MacDonald’s bought the farm