BLOSSOM III

The flowers still won't blossom for me

Griping the thorns as hard as I can

These hands will bleed till death takes me

A drought in my veins

These eyes become brittle

Yet sensitive to silence

These hands will bleed to fill up the well

The world will feed my obsession again

The destructive force of guilt rebuilds itself

Behind determination

This fortress was built on a carcass

When I sleep, I still see the image

My blood on a familiar face

The only way I know how to stay alive

Grip the thorns, these hands still bleed

The flowers still won't blossom for me

When I sleep, I see it

These hands will bleed to fill up the well

And feed obsession again

Forever lost, and never satisfied

Carving the path again out of dirt

We live and die for inspiration

The flowers want blossom for me

These hands will bleed (These hands will bleed)

They will always fill up the well

Every last second will truly be missed

The sacrifice we made to refill this void inside

The flowers still won't blossom for me