Grace, pride, tell me whats your name
Crippled will with tomorrows pill
But I feel no pain and I can't remember who's to blame
This is not my home
This is not my home
But the source was always known
My grain
I beg, you steal, do you show me your signs of a sin
Blistered and torn by the pure and reborn
But there are just like us and remember man, they cave in..
This is not my home
This is not my home
But the source was always known
My grain
War stone, do you write your name in trust
Word to the wise, my instincts rise
All your heroes are gone and the proud ones
Have turned to dust... seven dust
You can kill my pride but my heads still flying
My grain, my grain
My grain, migrane
Writer(s): Pepper Keenan, Woody Weatherman
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