Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Brian Whelan
Electric Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Greg Felden
Songwriter
Lyrics
You hung your hat behind the door
And it's still there, like it was before
You don't live here anymore
You hung your hat behind the door
You used to rule with an iron hand
You were the final word, you were the promised land
Now you hold no keys, and you have no plan
You used to rule with an iron hand
We're made of strings, we're made of clay
The nearest star is a long, long way
They say you're coming back some day
We're made of strings, we're made of clay
I still talk to you sometimes
And it seems strange after all this time
Were you real? Were you in my mind?
I still talk to you sometimes
We're made of strings, we're made of clay
The nearest star is a long, long way
We might make it there some day
We're made of strings, we're made of clay
We're made of strings, we're made of clay
Writer(s): Greg Felden
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