Songtexte The Wake - Fyrce Muons

Our villain reports to the Council of the Lords in the high chamber
He retires with his babbling retinue into the hall of control where his evil plan is revealed

Much excellence in thy robes

As taken by the angel
Whos' eyes and ears can breathe
In time they won't remember
A single thing about these tears
The thunder of a sacred day
A minor man comes easy to his end
This timid fight is nothing
And nothing is defeated in their wake

Unholy infidels
Our sacred rule
We have the sacred
The sacred has rules

Hast thou a higher calling

Stealthy as a cat
A canonized disease
Inside every corridor
Camouflaged with steam
Floating up into the ears
Breathing every cell
Burning down the river
And born in hell
Every spawn of innocence
Crying for release
Carcass of the innocent
By disease

Bring thee its' glory

There is paradise
Purity

Just sample the elixir
And one by one they all fall pray
No solitary answer
Keeps all your doubts and faith in my way
It's all my fine attraction
That keeps this atomic deceit
They crave the resurrection
And you will be the masters they keep

Will thou take thy place

Oh save their bones
The sacred bones

Without reason thy bidding be
With shackles gone and souls set free
Anon thy host will see it such
Thy land be rid of peasant's clutch
The steam which exits every hole
Dispatch those folk to world of cold

Stealthy as a cat
Undulated smile
Treat a man with poverty
Take away his stones
Keep their kind in underground
Fairy tales for hope
Alternate solutions
Brave into the tempest
Face your evolution
Face your own solution
Face your vile illusion
Drink your darker poison

I hast seen this wicked deed in dreams of falling broken men
And hath found a way to maketh the steam purveyor of a deadly beshrew
Just hours they shall have to spend on earth
Their code of life begins to crawl away
Into a death before they face the day

But the girl is wise
And not so cold
That yearns to feed on you

Ah my daughter, forlorn should be named for her, as a disease shall be in days to come
She waits like a drunken ant lion, entombing the scraps that tumble to her from my stingy fingers

And her lover
What of this other

Quite the different dilemma
This one hast the fire to tear apart his own perdition and leaves behind eternal blood
The blood not spilled, but calling from its' father
Tis wicked and dark this tryst
These rabid snakes shall slayeth our eyes, then hast our throats
It was she did create the codes over these many years
Now the rodents cornered anon begin a bitter panic
And the bond they hold wilt face the shattered well

And scour the earth
And feed the lion