The crow sings of what was and shall be
The crow sings of fear and fright
Come! To my side, gather now children
Its fearful call shan't touch your blessed ears behind this wall
Come! Partake of your lessons. Imbibe of wisdom divine
Seek supernatural sanctuary within these sacred speakings
The ****** prowls, crowding at the door
(They call for sacrifice. Who? Is the Snake worthy?)
Come! Summer thunderstorm, mask the screams of the Snake
(Where is the Priest? Shall he not bear witness?)
A shriek punctures the eve as warm rain washes the blood of their hands
The vulture sings of what was and shall be
The vulture sings of hunger and madness
Come! Fall nay into despair, my innocent few
Bare not its beady eyed gaze but yet bury your sight in me
To the other side I'll gently lead, hand in hand
If only your humble servant I may be
The door shudders violently. The committee calls for blood
(His Word is empty. We are beset and the cycle begins anew.)
Come! Winter snowstorm, hide those tracks of the audacious few
(Where is the Priest? His hollow words won't save him)
A knife in the back. The door slams shut and stills.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
The crow sings of what was and shall be
The crow sings of fear and fright
Come! To my side, gather now children
Its fearful call shan't touch your blessed ears behind this wall
Come! Partake of your lessons. Imbibe of wisdom divine
Seek supernatural sanctuary within these sacred speakings
The ****** prowls, crowding at the door
(They call for sacrifice. Who? Is the Snake worthy?)
Come! Summer thunderstorm, mask the screams of the Snake
(Where is the Priest? Shall he not bear witness?)
A shriek punctures the eve as warm rain washes the blood of their hands
The vulture sings of what was and shall be
The vulture sings of hunger and madness
Come! Fall nay into despair, my innocent few
Bare not its beady eyed gaze but yet bury your sight in me
To the other side I'll gently lead, hand in hand
If only your humble servant I may be
The door shudders violently. The committee calls for blood
(His Word is empty. We are beset and the cycle begins anew.)
Come! Winter snowstorm, hide those tracks of the audacious few
(Where is the Priest? His hollow words won't save him)
A knife in the back. The door slams shut and stills.
