Count joy, count silver in your hands
Your accolade is coming
Your name’s been said by every man
Now you owe nothing
But just as soon as your rise came
Make way for your successor
His land is richer, gold for grain
And gone soon after
I know there’s a place
On the brink, on the edge of the sky
I’ve been banking my treasure beyond
This time, beyond this life
The King cries, “All is meaningless
What do we gain from labour?
The generations come and go
And nothing lasts forever”
Where have you laid your heart tonight?
Your treasure follows
Where have you built your house this time?
Will it stand tomorrow?