Close up the door of abandoned self-control
It's like a show where the maps will all unfold
Don't tell me why there is a price of spring
Uncover other things
The leaves to lie
Marked by new growth making circles with a pen
Of all unknowns can we wait until the end
Don't tell me why there is a price of spring
Uncover other things
The leaves to lie
I'll admit to half that should make your map
These words hang frozen and swollen and still
Right here i open and close up my will
So there's not one thing
Til there's not one thing
Writer(s): Matthew Morris Pond
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