We Could Be Gold Diggers

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