Market of Souls

The market of souls. There was a lot for happiness. They sold their

wonders there. Even greed was on the counter, gone in half an hour's fare.

Women stood for tenderness, not just stood, they broke the wall.

A crowd was rushing for appearances, but warmth was wanted least of all.

Buy your love if you've got money, freedom for the broken hearts,

laurels paid by every singer, dreams are sold in little parts. The talent's worthless,

fame is priceless, the empty chase, a day and night. And cruel ones

with hungry smiles, laid on shoulders once so bright. Pride was sold beside the counters,