| <Imindain> page <Monolithium> album page |
The Buried RoomAnd the sun explodes, as it did before......and shadows left again to reveal our soul We burn as tinder, fly apart like leaves Girders, twisted spires... Like hands to heaven... If dust was gold, we would be kings... Ten thousand crucified, against a raging sky With lowly chorus that shakes the ground We bemoan our woes, as discordant sound Our hair in clumps, our skin marble grey Our teeth they loosen... and they fall away The horizon enraged, from the left to the right Glowing like the coals, against a cancer sky (We hold in embrace Each other to the end In our buried room We lie in fitful dream...) |