I could be made of gold, and dance my life away.
I could glow with praise, I could be lifted by the crowd.
I could charge by the hour, I could make living cheap.
I could dine with kings, or deny them the pleasure.
I could be outspoken, even whispering my voice would be heard.
I could raise the sun, I could command the stars.
Yet it would not make me happy, it would not make me sing.
Beyond you there is nothing, and no love of anything.