From the recording Black Lung
Lyrics
Heavy are the highs and lows, keeping me afloat... we arrive on angles
Wings to be clipped soon, splitting a heart in two... we cry on shoulders
Faith,
it won't take me higher than grace
it won't take me higher then waste
Its a ripe and rotten place to own your name
Steady all the colors that blur, speaking the words that slur mechanically
Riding on leap of haste, choking up all the space to cast as failure
Faith,
it won't take me higher than grace
it won't take me higher then waste
Its a ripe and rotten place to own your name
Will I choose another road?
Will I choose another robe?