My sweeping lie
Is drawn and getting tight
Tender teeth will gnash
On the wings of a crashing flight
Black out silence saves
As I sink in the summer sand
That cold embrace but now I'm saved
By the grin, 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)
Impression dies, I return to the boundless (emerging)
Emerging weightless (impression dies)
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)
Impression dies, I return to the boundless (emerging)
Emerging weightless (impression dies)
My lungs are tired
Is this what grace is?

Is this what grace is? Is this what grace is?
Is this what grace is? Is this what grace is?

So numb in this carbon process (impression dies)
Impression dies, I return to the boundless (emerging)
Emerging weightless (impression dies)
My lungs are tired
Is this what grace is?

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Christopher Steele, Dallas Green, George Pettit, Jordan Hastings, Wade MacNeil