What if the flowers grow confined, And we start to grow blind, Cause everything we thought would work, Now turns to ashes that will never burn. We built a world with fragile trust, Now crumbled down, consumed by dust. But I do want it to last, And I don't want it to burn to ash. Maybe it isn't for us, Should I grow out of trust? Maybe I need a few moments to cool down, Like I didn't almost drown.