Here-tell they say i'm yellow
'Cause i'm not accustomed to the heart of man
'Cause I find no faith nor trust nor worth in the promises of man
Pray-tell, what's become of my Jesus?
Because as of late our worth dwells in the touch of flesh
Oh but as of late i find no fear in the words of flesh
They claim I'm dead to their world
Well I say belay fondness of breath
I'm not a dead man walking - like them
You'll hear no tales from dead men
It's why they don't want me talking - about him
Hearsay is what they say i say
When I give him utmost praise and I'd take it to my grave
And if i should arise i'll turn around and do again
They murmur heresy is what has befallen me
When my roots grow strong and deep for what I believe
That you're nearly here to come home and rescue me
That you're nearly here and this earth can't rescue me
They claim I'm dead to their world
Well I say belay fondness of breath
I'm not a dead man walking - like them
You'll hear no tales from dead men
It's why they don't want me talking - about him
I'm not yellow I've just found love
