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.