She grows with the flowers
She goes with the wind
She's getting so tired
Of feeling locked in
And Fern
Set fire to the forest
To plant her own garden
So sick of pretending
She keeps her knives sharpened
She grows with the flowers
She goes with the wind
She's getting so tired
Of feeling locked in
And everyone around her watched her fall
Scraping knees
And Fern
Set fire to the forest
To plant her own garden
So sick of pretending
She keeps her knives sharp