They said in time all wounds would heal
But bartered flesh won't grow anew
Where once were fingers, now reminders
And hatred bore itself another mouth to scream from
When my words ran dry
All that was left was cinder
The summer bears reminders of drought and desperation
I have lived a thousand lives of thirst
I have driven hope from fertile home
I alone will suffer with my failure
I will reap the withered crop that we have sown
Fragrance tangled in your hair
Knotted in those fragile strands
And wrested from the fertile soil
A language fit for flowers tongue
Blossom Orchid, do you dare?
I hold you in my gentle hands
To hope is to mourn
To love is to lose
Tighten my restraints
You, of changing face
Wilted sorrow, wilted heart
Roots that held my limbs in place
One hand on my lips
The other in the wound
The Hanged Man // Orchid Video (MV)
Non - The Hanged Man // Orchid Lyrics
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They said in time all wounds would heal
But bartered flesh won't grow anew
Where once were fingers, now reminders
And hatred bore itself another mouth to scream from
When my words ran dry
All that was left was cinder
The summer bears reminders of drought and desperation
I have lived a thousand lives of thirst
I have driven hope from fertile home
I alone will suffer with my failure
I will reap the withered crop that we have sown
Fragrance tangled in your hair
Knotted in those fragile strands
And wrested from the fertile soil
A language fit for flowers tongue
Blossom Orchid, do you dare?
I hold you in my gentle hands
To hope is to mourn
To love is to lose
Tighten my restraints
You, of changing face
Wilted sorrow, wilted heart
Roots that held my limbs in place
One hand on my lips
The other in the wound
But bartered flesh won't grow anew
Where once were fingers, now reminders
And hatred bore itself another mouth to scream from
When my words ran dry
All that was left was cinder
The summer bears reminders of drought and desperation
I have lived a thousand lives of thirst
I have driven hope from fertile home
I alone will suffer with my failure
I will reap the withered crop that we have sown
Fragrance tangled in your hair
Knotted in those fragile strands
And wrested from the fertile soil
A language fit for flowers tongue
Blossom Orchid, do you dare?
I hold you in my gentle hands
To hope is to mourn
To love is to lose
Tighten my restraints
You, of changing face
Wilted sorrow, wilted heart
Roots that held my limbs in place
One hand on my lips
The other in the wound
Writer: Jack Whelan
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid