Songtext von Eversworn

You have to think about it You're letting thoughts go They're not mine to assess Even less mine to control They spill to the outside And find a place in time If thine is the garden Then thine is the vine And no steward here With his rusty hatchet Could ever dissever The bloom from the bulb As long as its fertile All flowers grow And no more the bouquet Than our footprints to snow You're one feisty weaver Lacing all that grow Can't look away now Since you've sewn the rest If you've known the worst Here comes the best Eversworn In needlepoint Unlinear Untraceable Relative The firmament Elements In cuneiform Play So turn a page And grab a pen Lose yourself And start again