Lyrics Birds in Row

Birds in Row

Among The Ashes

Fill up the masses and leave us alone. Among these ashes

there ain't no place to grow. We're called the lone kids

of our broken throats. Tired of yelling, we've got no

place to fall. And i admit i am nothing but the opposite

of your decisions. Building myself on the anti-pattern of

the golden wounds. Among these ashes, turned up by crows,

we are staring at the surface, hoping for welcoming hands

to cut through this dark sea. But carry your burdens, no

arms will get open if you're not a new martyr.