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Sunken Lungs
Primordial
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What breath it takes the tide
Is it from your - your sunken hollow lungs
That the bones may gather at the depths
An organ for the ghastly of songs
A vessel for the damned adrift on a sunless sea
On the sunless sea
Whisper on white tongues of foam
To me of days I've lost to the dreadful night
And the heart of darkness
That draws us to light so tight
And sets us adrift
Haggard and bent crows keen to the crone
What do the drowned say?
Who man our ships as ghosts
And bend our knees to pray
For a silent and a watery - a watery grave
We bend our knees to pray
What breath it takes the tide
Is it sunken from your hollow lungs
That the bones may gather
At the depths down below
An organ for the ghastly of songs
A vessel for the damned
Every pilgrim to the depths
Follows another
To meet the masters below
Hollowed by time
Wild horses unbound on white foam
We bend our knees to pray
For silent and watery grave
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