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