under fm waves

when you're in a hole its a hard time getting out

and there's a few bad men full of bread and grins

who don't want you on their cloud

and if you're asking for a hand

well they'll give you one

that will push you back in place

and its that same hand that pays the man that's running fm waves. when you're outside

they like you lookin' in

and they'll drink champagne to that windowpane where they've found a thousand peeping men

and even if you don't want to sell your tune

they might take it from you anyway

and you'll feel wronged when you hear your song being shattered over fm waves. my heroes are not cowboys

they're the ones who sing about them

not caring if they're paid or have a place to lay their head

cause dough will always come and go

but a good song will never grey

well

you'd never know from radio

but there's gold under fm waves. so mr. big wig

no i wouldn't want to take your place

cause i don't want to find your frecnh wine when i'm looking for saving grace

you can always close your ears

cause one day my voice will fade away

but there will always be a bunch like me

playing music under fm waves. my heroes are not cowboys

they're the ones who sing about them

not caring if they're paid or have a place to lay their head

cause dough will always come and go

but a good song never greys

well

you'd never know from radio

but there's gold under fm waves.