LYRIC
Wield it with contempt or have it torn from your arm
We are wolves chewing at the ankles of the world [Chorus] A fear that and #39; s richer than cream
Hunt those who run
Hurdling into clay hands (I am a weapon)
Prayers broken at the wrists
To provide me a life I can bleed on [Verse 2] Liberate it from a future rotten with their breath
Hurl their bodies into rivers
Let their names be forgotten
May no one grieve for their children
Let their loss trumpet silent
I will speak
Let me make a promise to my kin
The torn body of a man is not a tragedy
Pain is their truth and it will define their death [Chorus] A fear that’s richer than cream
Hunt those who run
Hurdling into clay hands (I am the weapon)
Prayers broken at the wrists
To provide me a life I can feed on
Pain will define their death
Hunt those who run
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