Grand Slam
Written by Jacobious Lovebone, Ethan Sirotzki & Castor Hetfield
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45
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Lyrics
Defined by the past
A holy grudge persists
A past in justice tells me all I am today
Could be sick, could be sane
Like a devil efficient with pain
I feel so sick
But you look sane
You little devil you’re giving me hell
No chance for revenge
Believe in God, he’ll give you hell
No chance for revenge
You little devil you’re giving me hell
Watching you die softly with no worth
You’re the real grand slam I can’t pass up
Oh
Could be sick, could be sane
Like a devil efficient with pain
I feel so sick
But you look sane
You little devil you’re giving me hell
No chance for revenge
Believe in God, he’ll give you hell
No chance for revenge
You little devil you’re keeping me sane
Watching you die softly with no worth
You’re the real grand slam I can’t pass up
Oh
Searching for the sympathy you’d never get
You’re the real grand slam I can’t pass up
Oh
You make it happen, you don’t understand
A sacred heart it seeks revenge
And real love
Real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
A real love
Real love