Agalloch - Into the Painted Grey lyrics
[Agalloch - Into the Painted Grey lyrics]
The jagged lines in these wooden hands
Speak of a silent aeon below the depths
Of an austere ebon tide
For centuries kingdoms have risen
Upon the ancient hands of a god
Once severed for the world's birth
A sacrifice to the storms of life
Now darkness is thine sanctum
Temples of magma stream across the grey
The arc that transcends my iconic pride
For I am not an ageless god, no
I am imprisoned by time
These ancient palms shall once again be mine
Handshands that lift the oceans
To vertical depths above the stars
For when I die, the universe will die with me
And all will be lost forever gone
Where am I? How long shall I suffer here?
Forlorn in the cold neolithic embrace
Forsaken deep in the sullen tide
How long shall I suffer here?
Perched on the cliffside gazing
Out into the brine
My archaic beard pours downward and
Joins the feral sea
I am the heritage the quintessence
Of myth and legend
The archetype of Pagan might and divinity
Hands hands that lift the oceans
To vertical depths beyond the stars
I gather a celestial blanket
Around these tired bones
And finally slumber in the clouds of ice
These are my hands so it is done
Speak of a silent aeon below the depths
Of an austere ebon tide
For centuries kingdoms have risen
Upon the ancient hands of a god
Once severed for the world's birth
A sacrifice to the storms of life
Now darkness is thine sanctum
Temples of magma stream across the grey
The arc that transcends my iconic pride
For I am not an ageless god, no
I am imprisoned by time
These ancient palms shall once again be mine
Handshands that lift the oceans
To vertical depths above the stars
For when I die, the universe will die with me
And all will be lost forever gone
Where am I? How long shall I suffer here?
Forlorn in the cold neolithic embrace
Forsaken deep in the sullen tide
How long shall I suffer here?
Perched on the cliffside gazing
Out into the brine
My archaic beard pours downward and
Joins the feral sea
I am the heritage the quintessence
Of myth and legend
The archetype of Pagan might and divinity
Hands hands that lift the oceans
To vertical depths beyond the stars
I gather a celestial blanket
Around these tired bones
And finally slumber in the clouds of ice
These are my hands so it is done