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