The lights are on and you're not home
The client is on the phone
You sit atop your silver dome
The club you're in the club of rome
Businessman, businessman
You're alone with the numbers
They'll never understand
Businessman, businessman
You make something out of nothing
There's magic in your hands
Input, output, loss and gain
Red and black
It's all the same
Smoke and mirrors shift the blame
Remote control is your name
The wheels of steal are cogs of joy
A marching beat for girl or boy
You stand above the sickly crowd
Luciferian there's no doubt