The Door Into Summer — Monkees

With his fools gold stacked up all around him

From a killing in the market on the war

The children left king midas there, as they found him

In his counting house where nothing counts but more

Chorus

And he thought he heard the echo of a penny whistle band

And the laughter from a distant caravan

And the brightly painted line of circus wagons in the sand

Fading through the door into summer

Well, its travel onto "maybe next year" s places

As a trade-in for a name upon the door

And he pays for every year he cannot buy back with his tears

As he finds out theres been no one keeping score

Chorus...