Morsal
Lord Of The Lost
They will see your face in bloom
And the night will be no more
They know nothing about your doom
They see you still the way you've been before
So colourful
But the poison deep inside has spread
My rose, you wither with pride
You wither in grace
You turn your face towards the light
Your leaves start to fall
Again you'll arise
After all
In broken china you're laid out
Like a floater at the shore
In dead water you will sprout
Even after they cut off your thorns
Defenseless
But morale deep inside has spread
My rose, you wither with pride
You wither in grace
You turn your face towards the light
Your leaves start to fall
Again you'll arise
After all
My rose, you wither in grace
You wither with pride
Your leaves start to fall
But you keep your head up high
My rose, you wither in grace
You wither with pride
Your leaves start to fall
But you keep your head up high
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