Letras
Hothouse flower, waterlogged
All worn down by a salty fog
Silkborm thin skin, weak from the breeze
You don't have to earn anything
To survive, you don't have to try
Gifts arrive if you desire
Still you dream, still you scream
Like a bird at dawn
It feels unfair to be so square
While others have something to fear and feel
Sallowed, useless, nothing is at stake
So you cultivate your taste
Imagine a struggle, copy your scene
Mannequin in faux greenery
To survive, you don't have to try
Gifts arrive if you desire
Still you dream, still you scream
Like a bird at dawn
It feels so dumb to be so numb
While others have something to fear and feel
Out to be muckborn, rise from the ashes
Telling the troubles you've seen
Hothouse flower cries from her window
Faking her own suffering
Out to be muckborn, rise from the ashes
Telling the troubles you've seen
Hothouse flower cries from her window
Faking her own suffering
Out to be muckborn, rise from the ashes
Telling the troubles you've seen
Hothouse flower cries from her window
Faking her own suffering
Still you dream, still you scream
Like a bird at dawn
It feels so dumb to be so numb
While others have something to fear