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• Artiste: Revolution Renaissance
• Titre: Ghost Of Fallen Grace
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
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Barrens of nowhere land The scars of a lone man A once powerful ship crumbles from the rust Skeletons that wilt to dust Sands shift on the plain As the wind stirs up the memories of mine I hear whispers Searching through decaying ruins Digging for spiritual druids Fragments of emotional atrocities Concealing my hypocrisies On the blazing desert sun Glares down on the deeds That I have done As sweat drips from my face, feel my skin start to crawl I catch a glimpse of the Ghost of fallen grace Making my way across this wasteland of tombs Right were the road to hell passes through I'm coming home And then I come to the place where God's Mercy is borrowed Entranced by the billowing smoke from the burning bridge of sorrow Inscription on the Guardian's stone This reads "Poet, you've come home" As tears trace lines on my face Succumbing to the Ghost of fallen grace