I thought of writing a song for you.

No more flowers for the heartless
No more you and I retardness
No more running from the pain

Countries
Borders
And asking freedom from elsewhere.
She doesn't know you
Not anymore.

Crawl

Return to your mother.
Go back to the roots,
Grow back to who you are.

I thought of writing a song for you.
Couldn't.
Was wounded by the
wounds of you.