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