Oh my God
I feel it in my blood
The warming of the winter
The coming of the flood
Springtime’s song
Born without the words
Waiting for a flower
Longing to be heard
Pushing it’s way out of the ground
Born Without The Words
Feelings too old to die young now
You can live your whole life in want
Comparing to another
As something that you’re not
Or you can fill the space that you’ve been given
The space that was made for you
You and no one else
Pushing my way out of the ground
I’m ready for it
I’ve grown too old to die young now
I’m better for it
Born without the words
Waiting for a flower
Longing to be heard
I feel it in my blood
The warming of the winter
The coming of the flood
Springtime’s song
Born without the words
Waiting for a flower
Longing to be heard
Pushing it’s way out of the ground
Born Without The Words
Feelings too old to die young now
You can live your whole life in want
Comparing to another
As something that you’re not
Or you can fill the space that you’ve been given
The space that was made for you
You and no one else
Pushing my way out of the ground
I’m ready for it
I’ve grown too old to die young now
I’m better for it
Born without the words
Waiting for a flower
Longing to be heard
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