Of Midas & Medusa

No Description.

Caught between a rock and a hard place,
Slowly but surely turning to stone.
If I play Midas then you play Medusa,
And you'll love no-one's touch but my own.
But not all that glitters is gold,
For everything I touch turns cold,
Everytime you look at me my heart turns cold.
'Cause we are golden,
Yeah we are golden,
Golden but cold at heart.