[Music: Henriksson, Johansson, Sundin]
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[Words: Sundin]
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Tongues, lost in me
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yours be the sharp and the vile
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Glide neath my skin
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storm through my nerves
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I bury the nomad years
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hours in the earth
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couldn't exorcise these searing, pecking tongues
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Immune you say
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yet venom strikes in strangest guises
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as the viper in our eyes
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Tongue, throat, tongue
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slayer of the word and stealer of wisdom
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A monumental reign of terrors
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throats slit up to stain the target
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We're food for the hounds of trauma,
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prey to the crows of stress
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No power left to retrieve my stolen language
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filtered through the illiterate fingers of death
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Flies
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let sickness be poured
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from the cupped hands of bedlam
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On account of their brightness
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I made friends with the word and the moon
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went with the tide and left for the sound
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of dead instruments thrown out of tune
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The red square patterns, dragonrise and
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evenclaw
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decoying from pandemonic symmetry
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Let ring
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a dissonant note in the music of the spheres
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the streak of promise in the nuclear sky
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These whipping black tongues
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aching to lick me back to life
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to inject their truths within me
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Tongues
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| Dark Tranquillity |
