Look at the Balloons, Look how they float for you; and all the things that you do; Yeah I think they are Yellow.
The Church of Chris Martin came along; they rewrote this song for you; I liked you on the Grammy’s too; but Rhianna looked Yellow.
So then I got in line; right up on Mother Gwyneth’s behind–Oh, what a thing to do. And Mother looked Yellow too.
Your eyes, Chris, They are cornflower blue. I look inside them and see something true. Your chapel of adoration may now be few, but we love you, Yes we do!
I would swim across but I flew across the pond to go see you. Oh what an expensive thing to do. But I was feeling mellow too. I waited in line. Oh. I waited in line to see you, what a thing to do, because I hate standing in line–ewww! .
Oh yeah, your curly hair and politeness make me drool; I am just a loyal simpleton fool, and my fav color is Yellow-it rules!
For you I would bleed myself dry, or give up eating pecan pie or force myself to watch The Notebook & not even cry!
It’s true-look how those balloons float for you; and all the things that you do. Though your sold out concerts have gross, grabby guys who act like animals from the zoo, the stars will always shine just for you. Amen.