1. |
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In the early hours when the devils mourn, you'll reach for safety and for scorn.
And that sweat's gonna bead upon that raised brow again, being the only crown on your head.
And we'll swing our hammers clean, until the end.
When you bear attrition until your skin is worn, you'll join the callous before the storm.
And that rain's gonna wash away that mess you have made so you'll stay, please just stay, stay the same.
And we'll swing our hammers clean, until the end.
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2. |
Cimiteri
00:59
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3. |
The Casket
04:06
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You shook standard procedure when you built the wall. How could you predict the measure of which it would fall?
So give me more, yeah give me more.
You saw twenty five folk singers all laying in graves. When the rain fell upon their faces, you saw they didn't have names.
So give them more, yeah give them more.
Cause someday your set ways will change, and the bricks you built will start to wash away and the snow on the hill will be up to your knees, so keep your casket clean.
You sought separation but didn't manage the plan. When the backlash caused abrasion the blood remained on your hands.
So give me more, yeah give me more.
You swore that atlas was thee, and you could hold the load. When the weight was too much to carry, they found you dead on the floor.
So give them more, yeah give them more.
Cause someday your set ways will change, and the bricks you built will start to wash away and the snow on the hill will be up to your knees, so keep your casket clean.
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4. |
A Silver Sun
05:03
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We rode like wolves in the road, bearing our teeth to the cold.
Pushing hard north in the snow, our will being forced onto the poor.
But a silver sun is all we need to guide us home.
You settled deep in the trees, wearing old weeds in place of leaves.
You swore that this place be not a trap, leading me on, both arms caught in a cast.
But a silver sun is all we need to guide us home.
So give me temptation and keep your fear and tell me those secrets that I shouldn't hear because if god wants another son, he ought to hold his tongue.
And preach me a sermon all drowned in tears, and dry off those pages that we've read for years because if god wants another son, he ought to hold his tongue.
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