Ritual Of Condemnation
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Oceans of madness darkened,
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Alone on hell she rides,
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Lichen, undead, and rotten,
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Dripping and dignified.
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She combs with violence upon the wailing storm,
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This spectral ship of doomed purgation barrels on awry.
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On stirring seas of salted blood,
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Condemned to forge her sails forevermore,
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Enslaved, her hull will never reach the shores
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Damning these waters of irony filth
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'Neath the stench of crimson winds,
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Her sails of flesh betorn.
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Red skeletons are oaring,
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The plasma stains their bones.
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Her rusting cannons fire blindly in the mist,
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This haunted vessel lost and damned,
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The prisoners of her endless quest.
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A burial at ancient sea that cannot rest in fucking peace,
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The crew of wraithlike revenants merely seek peace and reverence from purgatorial permanence.
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Their cursed bondage has no end,
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On they ride through the throes of endless night
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Her will never dies,
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[Solo]
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The compass pointing straight to hell,
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And that is where they're going.
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Beaten by curling waves of red,
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The storm,
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No signs of slowing now.
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On stirring seas of salted blood,
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Condemned to forge her sails forevermore,
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Enslaved, her hull will never reach the shores
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Damning these waters of irony filth
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Scabbed with the blood of ones they have killed,
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The ghosts of war must soldier on.
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On Stirring Seas Of Salted Blood
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| The Black Dahlia Murder |
