Frames

Man of little wealth King of yourself You'll greet the grave, to find your way In gaining the crown Of which you're well endowed I know you're proud, to let the rest of us drown 'Cause I can see you looking down From your higher shelf You fill your frame with a king of your best self I know when you been exposed By the pain that you hold so close Get out of your shell Before you are just a lonesome ghost Sweet misery, on the day that the dust leaves You've gotta get up and break free You've been walking a fine line To make your conscience feel right Went by the critical blind eye There was only a white lie Aren't you bored yet, that you tend to fail Forget the gold frames, that you lay on your string In a moment, even a ghost can change Don't ever forget what's been trapped underneath Sweet victory, on the day that my dust leaves I gotta get up and break free I been walking a fine line To make your conscience feel right Went by the critical kind eye But I paid them no mind, 'cos it's about time Aren't you bored yet, that you tend to fail Forget the gold frames, that you lay on your string In a moment, even a ghost can change Don't ever forget what's been trapped underneath