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Chamberlain
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Yellow Like Gold
Frail like dreams
I had crossed a thought, thin line I'd never seen
I know that dreams turn nails to leaves
And this deceiver is someone I can't keep at bay
So I blame me whenever I let my ghost stray
I blame the honest man with his heart in his hand
And I come harboring secrets in the night knowing
That beneath this skin lies a man waiting to come alive
This is the sound thoughts make like ballads from the barrel of a gun
And I at my sky blue, trades fade back to where I came from
I blame the honest man with his heart in his hand
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