Weeds

Lyrics

(K. J. Garside C. Gray)  
There is an anger comes off this girl,  
That she can't find an origin,  
The things I plant won't grow,  
Yet the wild weeds flower in wind and snow.  
Nothing to be nothing to prove,  
Nowhere to go nothing to lose.  
When will my season come,  
Was I born of infertile soil,  
Is my seed without song,  
Can I not see the woods for these forests in my head,  
Can I not see the sunlight as I play dead?  
Nothing to be nothing to prove,  
Nowhere to go nothing to lose.