Less of the same
Comfortable cold that I've known
Splintering ice on the Bay
I realized the timelines we fake
Create the light we make

Bring flowers for my saving grace
Trade out this wilted bouquet
Bring flowers for my future grave
It's mine to make

Lengthening days
Bind me to the warmth I've been shown
Open horizon ahead
I theorize a new design to chase instead

I see the light shine through the window
The Creator's golden call
To those who heed it
I breathe the saccharine air
That's spared of what's been lost
And the seeds we haven't sown

Bring flowers for my saving grace
Trade out this wilted bouquet
Bring flowers for my future grave
It's mine to make
Let the sun disgorge it's rays
Will it reinvent
Who I used to be
Let a hope grow from the cinder
Shower me in humbled daze
I invigorate
I revitalize
I embrace the healing

Glistening rain, washing all of the aching from my face
Fever dreams
Battering waves have exposed a foundation of regret
Forming fleurettes
Bring flowers to my grave

Growing vines
Syncopate
Cycle all I've made
And turn it into gains
I define
I see the light
Form and shape
Shining through the windows
Every path I take and all that I retain
Show what's left of winter's wake
Growing vines
I see the light
Syncopate
Shining through the windows
Cycle all I've made and turn it into gains
Show what's left of winter's wake
I define
I see the light
Form and shape
Shining through the windows
Every path I take, and all that I retain
Show what's left of winter's wake