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Brock Zeman
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Chanelle
Yesterday's news on his finger tips
A blade in his boot and a tremble on his lips
She climbs through his head like ivy on a house
He's trapped in the past and he can't climb out
Whistling a tune in the pouring rain
Using parked cars as walking canes
He knows she ain't never coming back again
Oh my sweet Chanelle
Oh my sweet Chanelle
You've got me wading through a new kinda hell
With you dancing through my mind and a blade for the long nights
Oh my sweet Chanelle
The grape vine is all covered in thorns
The bride wears a halo and the groom has horns
He ain't been living since she walked out
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Just getting up and walking around
In his pocket he fingers a wedding ring
As if it'll grant him a wish to bring her back again
But yesterday's news said she found another man
Oh my sweet Chanelle
The razor blade always calls his bluff
He don't feel down when he can't stand up
And God can't hear you behind the gates of hell
And heaven lies in the arms of sweet Chanelle
Now I lay me down to sleep
I give her my heart and my soul to keep
If I should die before I wake
Then I'll just die in a dream
Of my sweet Chanelle
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