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