Weeds

There is an anger, comes off this girl

That she can't find an origin

The things I plant won't grow

Yet the wild weeds flower in wind and snow

Nothing to be

Nothing to prove

Nowhere to go

Nothing to lose

Nothing to lose

When will my season come? Was I born of infertile soil?

Is my seed without song?

Can I not see the woods for these forests in my head?

Can I not see the sunlight as I play dead?

Nothing to be

Nothing to prove

Nowhere to go

Nothing to lose

Nothing to lose