Testi:
Grain

[Instrumental]

The texture of the soul is a liquid that casts a vermilion flood From a wound carved as an oath; it fills the river bank a sanguine fog These arms were

fallin in love (Don't do it yo') I was wrong for fallin in love (They always say don't love a ho) But I just went against the grain It was a feelin

When the wreckage starts to rust And our structures turn to dust And blow away The hungry will feast on the wall fed one day It all Unravels at the pull

Everybody is talking about the girl Who went and killed the delivery man, But she looks so kind and gentle, It just doesn't stand to reason, I saw her

flying through a dark prismatic tunnel on a carousel, the earth is turning and you know it very well, your mind is reeling like ten helicopters wheeling

heard a sermon from a creaky pulpit with no one in the nave, I paid a visit to the synagogue and I left there feeling blame, no one could tell me what

lascivious, it's all that I can think of as I drag my feet, searching like a diogenes, dangerous, the adjectives of the decade and of your alluring intricacies

known as destitute and free, With the grains of wrath blazing a path from sea to shining sea! I don't wanna be in the land known as destitute and free, With the grains