<> page <Below The Crevices> album page |
Carrying The Cries Of The LostAn eerie wind blows through the twisting passagesThey carry the cries of the lost and the dying And all who hear their pain suffer the knowledge of despair Oh dark lord, up on your throne You always hear the cries And there is nothing you can do But to rule with a turned eye The howling drives your paranoia When sleeping you keep one eye open Oh dark lord, you rule these blackened land But there is more you desire It hides as deep as these great caves But burns as bright as the torches' flames The howling wind, calling you to your death Down from your throne, you leave your kingdom And wander to the darkness never to return And now the whispers that ride the winds And fill our ears with despair Are from your very lips. |