Wall Street...

Bright yellow ties, and the stock reports,
The ticker-tape is running like in sports
You buy the future, sell it on the phone,
In this Manhattan jungle of cold stone.
No room for weakness, no time for regret,
The gears of power never came to rest.
You catch the trend, you ride the rising flood,
And hear the whisper:
Greed is good.

It’s a clockwork greed, it’s a modern machine,
Feeding the hunger of the digital screen
They say it’s a sin, but it’s fuel for the blood,
The system pulses:
Greed is good!
Tick-tock, you win,
Tick-tock, you bleed,
You’re just a cog in the clockwork greed (Yeah)

The trading floor is screaming, red and green,
The purest physics that you’ve ever seen.
You think you lead, you think you’re in control,
But this machine is winding up your soul.
You trade your hours, trade your youth and sweat,
For golden numbers that you’ll never get.
The market dictates who will rise or fall,
The ticking clock is laughing at us all.

It’s a clockwork greed, it’s a trendy machine,
Feeding the hunger of the digital screen
They say it’s a sin, but it’s fuel for the blood,
The system pulses:
Greed is good
Tick-tock, you win,
Tick-tock, you bleed,
You’re just a cog in the clockwork greed

Gordon Gekko smiles from the magazine,
The perfect idol of the tight routine.
You can’t rewind, the market doesn't wait,
You sold your time before you reached the gate...