Blue textures cascade downward to the base of the monolith Like brush strokes on a canvas of souls Two arms reach out a cloak of silent nihil Revenants
Like snowfall, you cry a silent storm Your tears paint rivers on this oaken wall. . . Amber nectar, misery ichor . . .cascading in streams of hallowed
The texture of the soul is a liquid that casts a vermilion flood From a wound carved as an oath; it fills the river bank a sanguine fog These arms were
[Instrumental]
Here I sit at the fire Liquor's bitter flames warm my languid soul Here I drink alone and remember A graven life, the stain of her memory In this cup,
Life is a clay urn on the mantle And I am shattered on the floor Life is a clay urn on the mantle And I am scattered on the floor We are the wounds and
[Sol Invictus cover] Give us our bread and bury our dead And kneel to the cross on the wall Whether burnt at the stake or drunk at the wake Just kneel
The brawling of a sparrow in the eaves, The brilliant moon and all the milky sky, And all that famous harmony of leaves, Had blotted out man's image and
[Music by Breyer (12/98 - 1/99)]
Oh dismal mourning... I open my weary eyes once again My life has been left hollow and ashes have filled the gorge of my within Last night I hoped
There lies a beauty behind forbidden wooden doors A beauty so rare and pure, it would make human eyes bleed and burn... ...She killed herself in the
When all is withered and torn And all has perished and fallen These great wooden doors shall remain closed. . . When the heart is a grave filled with
...It was not long ago when I had fallen from this mortal world, lost in dream flight to pierce the horizon as a bird... Is this life the pillor I must
Lord Summerisle: "And the ministers fled the island never to return. What my grandfather started out of expediency, my father continued out of love. He
The shallow voice of the wind cries between these ebony wings The shallow cries of the win sing a swansong for mankind Shine on morning skyfire ablaze