A Sense of Purpose heirloom

Don't be fooled by the fallacy
Born in hearts full of contempt
That we imperfect seeds' only potential
Lies in breeding these worthless weeds
Left to unravel our ambition from inhibition
We're convinced that we've taken root in sterile ground
Left perpetually bound
Imperfect seeds taking shape in the soil
Never choosing the places we're sown
The Earth, an Heirloom
Heiress of a life in bloom
Forgive us, Mother
We're engraving scars on a perfect womb
They say the meek will inherit the Earth
But the ground they've left us is barren cold
We inherit the soil
But you poison the roots from which we grow
Imperfect seeds taking shape in the soil
Never choosing the places that we're sown
The Earth, an Heirloom
Heiress of a life in bloom
Forgive us, Mother
We're engraving scars on a perfect womb
The Earth, an Heirloom
Heiress of a life in bloom