The Mantle
Album - 13 agosto 2002 - Debaser id 33538

Instrumental

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 blood
And the soul is a cold and haunted shall of lost hope
When the voice of pride has been silenced
And dignity's fires are but cinders
. . .their grandeur shall remain untainted

It is this grandeur that protects the spirit within
From the plight of this broken world, from the wounds in her song
I wish to die with my will and spirit intact
The will that inspired me to write these words
Seek not the fallen to unlock these wooden doors

Like snowfall, you cry a silent storm
Your tears paint rivers on this oaken wall...
Amber nectar, misery ichor
...cascading in streams of hallowed form
For each stain, a forsaken shadow

You are the lugubrious spirit
Etched in the oak of wonder
You are the sullen voice and silent storm

Each night I lay
Awakened by her shivering silent voice
From the shapes in the corridor walls.
It pierces the solitude like that of a distant scream
In the pitch-black forest of my delusion...

With each passing day, a deeper grave...

"Why did you leave me to die?"
"Why did you abandon me?"
"Why did you walk away and leave me bitterly yearning?"

Her haunting, contorted despair was etched into the wood's grain
Though fire rages within me, no fire burns fiercer than her desire
The shape whispers my name...

I damn this oak!
I damn her sorrow!
I damn these oaken corridors
That bear the ghosts of those I've thrown away!

Though tempted I am to caress her texture divine
And taste her pain sweet, sweet like brandy wine;
I must burn these halls, these corridors
And silence her shrill, tormenting voice
...forever...

Like snowfall, you cried a silent storm
No tears stain this dust in my hands
But from this ashen gray, her voice still
Whispers my name...

You were the lugubrious spirit
Who haunted the oak of wonder
You were the geist that warned this frozen silent storm
You were but a ghost in my arms

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, love's poison
For love is the poison of life
Tip the cup, feed the fire,
And forget about useless fucking hope. . .

Lost in the desolation of love
The passions we reap and sow
Lost in the desolation of life
This path that we walk. . .

Here's to love, the sickness
The great martyr of the soul
Here's to life, the vice
The great herald of misery
In this cup, spiritus frumenti
For this is the nectar of the spirit
Quench the thirst, drown the sorrow
And forget about cold yesterdays. . .

Lost in the desolation of love
The passions we reap and sow
Lost in the desolation of life
This path that we walk. . .
Lost in the desolation of love
The sorrows we reap and sow
Lost in the desolation of life
The path that we walk. . .