Roots


Why should we love the chase
Is that all we can do
For the greens that are dead
When they left all their roots

For our bonds to be tied
In the chains of a house
Filled with vows to be kept
Or the clause would be death

This is how we will live
With our hands on their skin
To be thrown and be used
When we long to be chased

In a house of the greens
And our greens have their sights
On a dream of a world
Where we left all our roots.

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