Ghosts of Grace

The alleys of hell where we wonder What's eternal, now it begins The fate of the earth where we were born No last echo, pull the plug And the storm left nothing And the storm left all And the storm took nothing And the storm took all The winds of disease burn your fields So unhallowed, so unclean The face of extinction raw and pestilent White with terror, tainted eyes And the storm left nothing And the storm left all And the storm took nothing And the storm took all The ghosts of grace want your bones Your spirit left for dead The cause of the mourning lay in grace Like nations raped with praise And the storm left nothing And the storm left all And the storm took nothing And the storm took all And the storm left nothing And the storm left all And the storm took nothing And the storm took all