Текст песни The Mountain - Croword

A lonely king on chessboard of life
What's a trice in a mountains eternalness?
With his stone ermine cold and a crown bare
No living shields and no breathing banners

A static yearningly glimpse to the grace
A ravenous urge to unite the horizons
Words spoken through the rain in silence
Secret blooming between petrified lungs
If Tears could bring the living breath
Saw loneliness to reap the hope
A definite aim to aporia in majesty
A rivulets dawn on its riptides brutality

King is dead, long live the king!
A course of stones eternalness
Like a knife to the throat of the aeon

Her breath was motion of bloom and wither
Sessions drawn on her inert body
A silent call to a revelry eternal
Criterion of time set to the mountains feet

A static yearningly glimpse to the grace
A ravenous urge to unite the horizons
Words spoken through the rain in silence
Secret blooming between petrified lungs
If Tears could bring the living breath
Saw loneliness to reap the hope
A definite aim to aporia in majesty
A rivulets dawn on its riptides brutality

King is dead, long live the king!
A course of stones eternalness
Like a knife to the throat of the aeon

What's a trice in a mountains eternalness?