Adam Hoey - The Final Con

Yeah I am eighty two years old
And my bones are getting cold
Right or wrong
I don't have long
I might as well be bold
But you're offering a song
When this is worth its weight in gold

It was carved by Turkish monks
From a stone a solid ton
These tiny words
You've never heard
It's a long forgotten tongue
The artistry's superb
So your offer's an affront

I'll take your pity, I'll take your shame
I'll take your greed, I'll take your pain
I'll take your money then I'll be gone
The final con

As I turn to walk away
I smile as I say
"If you don't want my help
There's someone else
Who gets a lucky day"
Then quick as a gazelle
You wince and holler, "Wait!"
It's like I cast a spell
But it's only child's play

I'll take your pity, I'll take your shame
I'll take your greed, I'll take your pain
I'll take your money then I'll be gone
The final con
The final con

It's not about the money
I know I can't take it with me
I con the god of misery
Into leaving me alone
Who's to say, what is a child
No I can't imagine
No I can't imagine
No I can't imagine
No I can't imagine anymore

Written by:
Adam Hoey

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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