Blue Spade کے بول

This sweeping lie Is drawn and getting tight Tender teeth will gnash On the wings of a crashing flight Blackout silence saves As I sink in the summer sands That cold embrace but now I'm saved By the grin and the reaching hand This mad order has many faces My lungs are tired And now I quake Is this what grace is? So numb in this carbon process Impression dies I return to the boundless Emerging weightless My lungs are tired Is this what grace is? Unanchored Drifting in caution I can hear the heavy gospel fade Cast below the midnight Sun I calmly dig with my blue spade This mad order has many faces My lungs are tired And now I quake Is this what grace is? So numb in this carbon process Impression dies I return to the boundless Emerging weightless My lungs are tired Is this what grace is?