Blood - Slow Hollows

You ignite a simple age where nothing really hurts the same

Climb the hills against their praise

Brother, you are not to blame

Your rage home, my grace gold

Our ways old, let’s stay close

I insist upon

Don’t wait your grace, I make home

I stay, we’ll make our way home

Don’t wait your grace, I make home

I stay, we’ll make our way…

He still stays covered in blood

He still stays zero to one

Seasons bad trips fevers mothers

Seasons bad trips fevers mothers

Don’t wait your grace, I make home

I stay, we’ll make our way home

Don’t wait your grace, I make home

I stay, we’ll make our way…

All you got to do is try

All you got to do is try