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The Quickening

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Verse I
I came from halfway around the world
Picked by hands you’ll never hold
My only shelter a burlap sack
Now I’m ground into black

CHORUS
Roast me, so you can take my energy
Don’t waste me, you can use me when you clean
Hot or cold, it doesn’t matter to me
Just don’t burn me
That’s what makes me bitter

VERSE II
Took the redeye to get through the night
Cause there’s no dreaming on the flight
I’m happy hot or cold as winter
I’m anywhere but Home is better

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