Weeds

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