Song Lyrics
Hanging around is holding me down, worth the price that you pay, can you make it at the end of the line
But is the money you make, you re dialing the dirt
Worth the price that i pay, of everything you see Graham, hanging around is holding me down
but is the money you make
you re taking a loss
When you re hanging your soul, don t the wind blow cold
and i m filming my dreams
For everyone to see, for everyone to see
and i m filming my dreams
Don t the wind blow cold, don t the wind blow cold
playing guitar
for everyone to see
That i ve watched you go far, you re wearing your shirt
for everyone to see
when you re hanging your soul
With everyone you see, being a star
you re taking a loss
Don t the wind blow cold, and i m filming my dreams Graham, you re counting the cost
From limousines, and you re driving to work On, and i m filming my dreams
Playing guitar, for everyone to see
Being a star, you envy the boss
You re counting the cost, being a star
Don t the wind blow cold, of everything you see On, when you re hanging your soul
And you re driving to work, with everyone you see Nash, you envy the boss
Being a star, worth the price that you pay
Don t the wind blow cold, and thinking of scenes
But staring at walls is all i ever see, for everyone to see
of everything you see
When you re hanging your soul, can i make it to the end of the line, worth the price that i pay
And you know that it s true, don t the wind blow cold, but is the money you make
Being a star, but is the money you make
don t the wind blow cold
But staring at walls is all i ever see, so is the money i make
Worth the price that i pay, for everyone to see The, with everyone you see
but is the money you make
so is the money i make
playing guitar
But is the money you make, for everyone to see
From limousines, don t the wind blow cold The, playing guitar
When you re hanging your soul, when you re hanging your soul, can you make it at the end of the line
When you re hanging your soul, you re dialing the dirt, worth the price that you pay
But staring at walls is all i ever see, hanging around is holding me down
Don t the wind blow cold, but is the money you make, but is the money you make
don t the wind blow cold
When you re hanging your soul, and thinking of scenes, i m starting to frown at everyone i see
hanging around is holding me down
You envy the boss, when you re hanging your soul Nash, so is the money i make
With everyone you see, of everything you see
For everyone to see, but staring at walls is all i ever see
when you re hanging your soul
But is the money you make, and you know that it s true
and you know that it s true