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Broughton-Mason |
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Laying low, hiding out in Mexico |
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Talking to friends through the eye of a video. |
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Scared to loose, surrounded by fools, you're wanting lust to |
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shout it out, but there's nothing left to talk about |
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Overhearing chance remarks, viewing movies in the dark, |
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and so your body stays alive but not your heart. |
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Losing all you are, to be a millionaire, a millionaire. |
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You remember how it used to be |
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Making you smile like a half-forgotten melody |
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Oh it made you laugh when people pushed for autographs, |
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but now it seems your yesterdays |
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are pictures on a yellow page. |
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Now you've found your hideaway, |
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heavy shutters hide the day |
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You've got nothing left to lose except the night. |
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Oh yes you've earned the right to be a millionaire, |
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a millionaire. |
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CHORUS |
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'Cause you're a millionaire, you've got plenty to spare. |
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All the time in the world to go anywhere |
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If you lose it all would you really care? |
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Would it bruise you? |
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'Cause it's a masquerade in many ways, |
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It's like wearing shades on a cloudy day |
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You know it don't make the weather change, |
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but it fools you. |
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`Cause you're a millionaire, a millionaire. |
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And as the sand runs from the glass |
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And they whisper "gone at last" and the |
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shadows come and go |
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but never pass |
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Oh bad times never last, when you're a millionaire, |
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a millionaire. |
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CHORUS |
