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

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
The angels burn a torch to keep us warm

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): WINSTON FOSTER