I need more room for my thoughts
Melodies can't pick up a rhythm in this
Dusty storage room
Where I can barely fit this
Old and cheap piano
You hate your nine to nine job
That makes your hair turn grey
By the day
When you come home late at night
I hear your deep sighs under the shower
And you say
I need something new to hold on to
This story's growing old
Too many miles under these shoes
We could be gold diggers
Could dig out some real good figures
Now don't you want that too
One can't buy happiness
But if two could buy a private jet
Who would mind being a little depressed
On some tropical island out of sight
Is it foolish to think
Egyptian cotton and diamond rings
Bring colours on staying alive
Could at least afford to buy a
Peace of mind
I need something new to hold on to
This story's growing old
Too many miles under these shoes
We could be gold diggers
Could dig out some real good figures
Now don't you want that too
If our love could be the currency
We'd be well on our way
To better days finer things
We've paid our dues and interest
Gambled all we got on this stock
We gotta change it up
Gotta turn this twisted plot
I need something new to hold on to
This story's growing real old
Too many miles under these shoes
We could be gold diggers
Could dig out some real good figures
Now don't you want that too
Don't you want that too