A sneaky kind of selfish

Everything has a price
Cause nothing's free
And I always
See myself the banker
And you a thief

She's all gray skies
This morning
And well
Ain't that fitting?

I'm trying to follow the words
As they line the page
But my eyes keep
Wandering off side
And wondering
About the dinner deals
At Wild Bill's saloon
In a town not quite Lake Louise

So I string myself
Up on that cross
Like Jesus in his
Passion play pose
Waiting for the applause
Or redemption
So good at my job
And all that sunny sacrificing

Everything has a purpose
All choices made
With the expectation
Of achieving some goal
But it's all empty ambition

Nothing accomplished
Reason I can't make
At a loss to explain
Why I do these things

And the good book
Just calls it a symptom
Of this disease
But that answer is dissatisfying