His eyes are closed his face pale asleep On the ground a newspaper reads, "The blood has spilled again" And you just dream my Yellowman
The angels burn a torch to keep us warm
His lungs are wide-awake but he won't breathe He spits out the ocean and we dream like goldfish in a bowl They think we're free Yellowman You're tying rocks to clouds to stay above the crowds
The angels burn a torch to keep us warm
The blood has spilled again And you just dream Yellowman You never see the bloodstains on the battlefield