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 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…