Grace
I lived in a paper-house for years
a card board box for a bed
the light would pierce the walls and burn my skin
and the sun never set
And they all know my name
and that's why they call me grace
oh they all know my name
that's why they call me grace
Was an x-ray of myself
just a photograph of pain
a shadow in the haze
and they all call me grace
They all know my name...
By kristal

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