The woman combed her yellow hair
Fixed her dress and stepped into the street
Behind her in the hotel room
Maria turns the bed to change the sheets
Suddenly a flash of light
Leaps out from in-between the linen folds
Maria slides her hand along the sheet still warm
And finds the fool’s gold
She steps up to the window
Just in time to watch the woman drive away
Her cell phone rings, her boyfriend calls
To say the factory had no work today
She slips the ring upon her finger
Thinks: “My hands are starting to look old”
But still there’s something beautiful about the hand
That wears the fool’s gold
Fool’s gold, fool’s gold
The hand that wears the fool’s gold
A woman sits with yellow hair
Her husband asks her, “Where’s your wedding ring?”
“I must have lost it washing up
You know you can’t trust me with anything”
Across town on a liar’s ring
Maria swears to honour and to hold
Bound to him by poverty and promises
And fool’s gold
Fool’s gold, fool’s gold
Promises and fool’s gold
Fool's gold, fool's gold
Promises and fool's gold