Frames - Austin Basham

Man of little wealth

King of yourself

You’ll beat the grave

To find your wave

In gaining the crown

Of which you’re well in doubt

I know that you’re proud

To let the rest of us drown

Because I can see you looking down

From your highest shelf

You fill your frame with the king of your best self

I know when you’ve been exposed by the pain you hold so close

Get out of your shell before you’re just a lonesome ghost

Sweet misery

On the day when the dust leaves

You gotta get up and break free

You’ve been walking a fine line

To make your conscience feel right

Well, by the critical blind eye

It was only a white lie

But you bought it, that you’re damned to fail

Forget the gold frames that you hang 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 when my dust leaves

I gotta get up and break free

I’ve been walking a fine line

To make my conscience feel right

Well, by the critical blind eye

I pay them no mind 'cause it’s about time

That you get

But you bought it, that you’re damned to fail

Forget the gold frames that you hang on your string

In a moment even a ghost can change

Don’t ever forget what’s been trapped underneath