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Crysknife

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Crysknife held in foreign hands Grinds men to sand, anchoring their arms Worm tooth held at rider's side We cut the sun from the liar's eyes Desert wisdom, desert blades Living under sun we carve this place a name Thirsty for the body's gift We bleed you and save the skin Be now as the worm, this Hell is your home From its mouth pull your blade, unfixed, unstained Now claim your sand Sell the spice and claim your sand