Fill up the masses and leave us alone Among these ashes There ain't no place to grow We're called the lone kids Of our broken throats Tired of yelling We've got no place to fall And I admit I am nothing But the opposite of your decisions Building myself on the anti-pattern of the golden wounds Fill up the masses and leave us alone Among these ashes There ain't no place to grow We're called the lone kids Of our broken throats Tired of yelling We've got no place to fall Among these ashes turned up by crows We are staring at the surface Hoping for welcoming hands to cut through this dark sea But carry your burdens No arms will get open if you're not a new martyr But carry your burdens No arms will get open if you're not a new martyr