The Golden Hand

[Intro — bass / funky guitar]
[Verse 1 — Male vocal]
He never stands behind the microphone,
but everybody knows his name.
He owns the paper, owns the channel,
owns a piece of every game.
A hand can shake a politician's hand
without appearing on the screen.
A promise travels through a doorway
where ordinary people have never been.
[Chorus]
The golden hand keeps moving,
from one pocket to another.
It buys a little silence,
it buys a little power.
The golden hand keeps reaching,
while the world keeps turning.
How much can one man hold
before his hands stop feeling?
[Instrumental — bass / guitar / sax]
[Verse 2]
He doesn't need to tell us what to think.
He only chooses what we see.
A story disappears beneath another,
a favour becomes a policy.
Somewhere a worker counts the hours.
Somewhere a family counts the cost.
And somewhere money changes hands
while nobody admits what has been bought.
[Chorus]
The golden hand keeps moving,
from one pocket to another.
It buys a little silence,
it buys a little power.
The golden hand keeps reaching,
while the world keeps turning.
How much can one man hold
before his hands stop feeling?
[Instrumental — extended bass groove]
[Bridge — Female vocal]
If money can open every door,
who decides where the road should go?
[Male vocal]
If everything has its price,
what happens to the things we cannot sell?
[Instrumental — sax / bass / guitar]
[Verse 3]
I don't believe that every wealthy man
has chosen greed above the rest.
But when a fortune speaks too loudly,
who gets heard beneath it?
We built a world where money can travel
faster than a human voice.
Perhaps the question isn't who is rich,
but who still has a choice.
[Final Chorus]
The golden hand keeps moving,
from one pocket to another.
It buys a little silence,
it buys a little power.
The golden hand keeps reaching,
but the world is not a market.
There are things no hand can purchase:
a human life, a human heart.
[Outro — bass and sax]
The golden hand keeps reaching...
But it cannot hold the world.