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Two Brothers Frame a Yellow Door

my breast pocket is full of moons
they rise and fly each morning
i stand beside you, we touch crowns
and two brothers frame a yellow door

they rise and fly each morning
where heroes surface like cream
and two brothers frame a yellow door
in moments perfect - almost here

where heroes surface like cream
there a muddy track churns red
in moments perfect - almost here
we douse our lamps to save the night

there a muddy track churns red
i stand beside you, we touch crowns
we douse our lamps to save the night
my breast pocket is full of moons
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