Run Wild, Young Beauty Hotel Books

Sometimes, I feel like some sort of gold being
I’m some sort of metal that only has purpose
When someone needs something
And people wouldn’t chase after me if it wasn’t for greed
If it wasn’t for the purchasing of some sort of peace

And my hopes and dreams are put on display for all to see
But under heat, they bend and they bleed
And maybe you couldn’t tell, this was once beautiful
It’s pure gold, just covered in black ink
Covered in the charcoal remains of ashes
From the last time someone burned me
But baby, I can be something you need
So bend me in that fire until I fit a shape
That can offer you some sort of utility

'Cause I can see you, but I can’t touch you
And I can touch you, but I can’t feel you
And I can feel you, but I can’t see you
I used to, but then I went blind

Mend me into a cup, so when you get too drunk
You will think of me
Or mend me into a ring, or some sort of jewelry
So I can hold some sort of diamond within me
People won’t notice me
But will see I possess something with beauty
Make me into buckles for the shoes on your feet
So when you run away from this broken down street
You can take me with you when you chase your dream