I wonder where they go 
the roots of a wilting ash 
choked in the hands of snow 
Why didn't they have a plan? 
And it seemed they had no choice 
coerced to be interlaced 
at the mercy of the tainted soil 
I worry that I relate 

It seemingly goes on without an end 
Constantly yearn for more 
My boughs routinely break before they even bend 
leaving my judgement at the door 

The ivies shift into their [bad word] 
relentless and violent hold 
their fury is nearly palpable 
So with what I was dealt, I fold 
From what I've seen and where I've been 
in an endeavor to stay afloat 
I'm convinced that she's my heroine 
and a tide to lift all boats 

It seemingly goes on without an end 
Conveinently giving in to my thirst 
She wakes me up before my time is spent 
with patience never wearing thin 

swift rising tide, set me right 
gem bending light, and she shines 

Oh, this whole time, I was thrown- 
I've [bad word]  around here for years 
thinking all that I know was to [bad word] away in fear 
This whole time, overgrown- 
I've been pullin my roots out for years 
thinking I was alone 
She was calling my name, oh, calling my name, 
but I couldn't hear her, no