Woorden: The Hurt Process. Ornament.

Turns to shades of gray,
Summer makes its move,
You set the night on fire,
How I wish I was by your side,
Tragic sets of circumstances drag me to my fear.
Time it seems so weighted.
Asphyxiated, slowly I choke,

[Chorus]
Decorated..... Like flesh on a hook.
Paint it black and blue,
Like you always do,
Take your poison,
This sickly flower blooms.

Another awful day,

A change in the seasons,
Drained of my meaning,
But here it stays the same.

[Chorus]

This sickly flower blooms, [2x]
Like you always do [2x]

[Chorus]