Where Have Roots by The Fine Print Lyrics

And where have roots to grow
But down and out?
I kept it in my pocket, babe
But it all got out
This could be a little more green
If you would just listen to me
_____ (paper plane?)
And every fold ______________

[From] the blood in my veins
To the leaves of my tree(?)
______________
Plain shit, I'm brittle(?)
The bud of my form, it's the hive of my bee(bane?)
I can't atone for the sins of my breed(brain?)

And where have I to go
But inside out?
I kept it in my pocket
But it all got out
I say this is less than pristine
But you're not even looking at me
You've always got to make a scene
With each discrete inequity
If two are a crowd
______________ and I'm dreaming aloud
And if I could find a way
Then, I'd use this wings and fly away
But ______________

______________
______________
I'm trying to keep it small
_______ so afraid(?)

And every time I try
It interrupts the game
I can't apologize
______________ (you will never change?)
And I think it's strange
That we don't fit in frames
We're less like photographs
And more like ______________
___________
That's the final time __ punctuate our lives
With these ordinary lines

[repetition]