I am grass crawling out of the ***, once all the flowers have rot Delicate green, spreading your gentle fingers, same color lingers in her eyes Spent too many tears trying to forget the feeling of making those eyes cry The years do fly by, but now I just find myself trying to make sense of them A jumble of puzzle pieces from different sets, cutting and pasting my soul like Papier-mâché Waiting on the day when I can honestly say I don't need you