Fill up the masses and leave us alone
Among these ashes
There ain't no place to grow

We're called the lone kids
Of our broken throats
Tired of yelling
We've got no place to fall

And I admit I am nothing
But the opposite of your decisions
Building myself on the anti-pattern of the golden wounds

Fill up the masses and leave us alone
Among these ashes
There ain't no place to grow
We're called the lone kids
Of our broken throats
Tired of yelling
We've got no place to fall

Among these ashes turned up by crows
We are staring at the surface
Hoping for welcoming hands to cut through this dark sea
But carry your burdens
No arms will get open if you're not a new martyr
But carry your burdens
No arms will get open if you're not a new martyr