I just got off the plane about ten minutes ago
|
And I'm nine drinks down, I've got nowhere to go
|
But I ride a single star
|
That generates no heat in your hand
|
And I'm a boxer bucking on the back of the beat
|
I'm a jet plane rising, turning on the heat
|
And I'll swagger and sway
|
But I'll find my feet hang around me
|
|
Hang by, hang by
|
Hang by, hang by
|
Hang by, hang by
|
Hang by, hang by me
|
|
Iron Man's sick of being Tony Stark
|
And the Silversurfer's lost his silver heart
|
But you can see my secret identity
|
Just slipping off the page into your hands
|
|
And receivers ring and telephones buzz
|
And the lines get tangled and they'll quicken your blood
|
But the taste of your skin is always enough
|
So hang around me
|
|
Hang by, hang by
|
Hang by, hang by
|
Hang by, hang by
|
Hang by, hang by me
|
|
From Weavers Field to Central Park
|
Oh ours is the time that turns life into dark
|
And the evening strips away
|
And I forget to say what I meant to say
|
I forget to say what I meant to say
|
|
But I'm always arriving ten minutes too late
|
An there's too much on my mind, too much on your plate
|
And you know, and you know...
|
You should really stick around
|
|
Hang by, hang by
|
Hang by, hang by
|
Hang by, hang by
|
Hang by, hang by
|
...
|
Hang by, hang by me
|
|
-----------------
|
Hang By, Hang By
|
| Razorlight |
