Fewjar - Polemonium lyrics

May I be a thought Risen from my imagination? As the mean against myself As a definition? Even so knowing, that I am I And ever will be me Breathing the air My ancestors breathed? Envision a shape All you can see is just its scape A blossom is your ceiling The mold thread At its loots is rising up to your head The scarp up seems defeating And it grows, it grows, it grows, it grows, it grows And I climb, I rise, I mount, I soar, I go up And it grows, it grows, it grows, it grows, it grows And I climb, I rise, I mount, I soar, I go up But all the same I feel pleased And desolate at once Paddling against my own Certainty Forcing the bale's larynx Down to its feet, cause I'm standing On every step in every scion Within the plant of paradox Envision a shape...