The Fire

I came with the others
I flew in the flames
We are the same
The black sheets of autumn
And cold winter rain
We are the same
I’m counting for something
Always forgetting
It’s just not you
I’m broken inside

Come to me open, always thought
That it was me that you are
Now that I’m broken
(Not broken, not spoken to)

Her six months have passed now
We’re weary with cold
Our fires are dim
Still burning the same
The fire the same is the fire the same
Soul came during autumn
And left with the snow

Our hearts are grown weary
We were wounded and cold
So I’ve took my clements’s hand
I stared him in the eyes and said
We’ll come back in spring
Now that the bumps are?
Come to me open, always thought
That it was me that you are
Now that I’m broken
(Not broken, not spoken to)