Lyrics: Austin Dickey
Music: Jacob Neal Hansen
Perceived in motion, time will pass us by!
Don’t deny the rite of the Ocean’s grasp, on our lunar plane!
Hunting the reaper, won’t change anything!
Constrained from motion by the vines you’ve let grow
Confined by rot trapped in a victim’s doubt
End my suffering!
To deny me is to deny death!
To deny me is to deny death!
Thief of life, steal my soul, take from me what I do not own!
First blood drawn at the Blood Moon’s dawn, I can’t keep up, what’s wrong what’s wrong?!
I’m lost I’m sick I can’t find shit, stuck in a pit of loneliness. To the brink and back my planned attacked never got passed its insurgence
Gored by the horns of Gods!
****ing gored by the horns of God!
Gored!
The Winds of Putridity strewn about the now begotten shores, littered with man’s penance
Spirits roam these lands with no semblance of guidance
An ember glows brightest when left to feed on darkness
Solid soil full of oil boiling to the streets, dead and gone are the ways of old better them than me
Moving in a constant stasis, burden free of a sky unclean you’ve wilted our divinity
Divinity;
Huntsmen of the North tribe, enlighten my deceptive mind!
Sitting all alone on your death bed grieving, can’t pay the fee but the Ferry man’s waiting to take you home
To take you home!