no coins in the fountain no diamonds in your mouth beggars in the closet struggling to come out you move in quiet circles your strategies are strange some day you'll run out of prisoners to exchange sinners will pay sinners will pay what you stole is not yours to give away and so your season's ending devastated fruit hanging from the branches in a deadly mood you'll serve them at a table and from a silver spoon some day i will refuse them that day is coming soon sinners will pay sinners will pay what you stole is not yours to give away