Thorns

One day we, in ceremony Will throw away the ashes to the sea For now breathe Patiently The glow of something magic in your reach What have we built here? We, the troubled architects of this You loved it broken Who are you to mourn Who are you to mourn You spoke of roses All I feel are thorns All I feel, all I feel are thorns In my sweet side, in my sweet side Dried out leaves And enemies Pressed between the pages left to read Thick as thieves Carefully Stepping without breaking underneath What have we built here? We, the troubled architects of this You loved it broken Who are you to mourn Who are you to mourn You spoke of roses All I feel are thorns All I feel, all I feel are thorns In my sweet side, in my sweet side In my sweet side, in my sweet side You loved it broken Who are you to mourn Who are you to mourn You spoke of roses All I feel are thorns All I feel, all I feel are thorns In my sweet side, all I feel are thorns In my sweet side, all I feel are thorns In my sweet side, all I feel are thorns In my sweet side, all I feel are thorns In my sweet side, in my sweet side