Amidst the Infinite

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Conan

6:53

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Shadows from the broken bones of the master
Rotting skin, open sores
Still we plead for him, rid us of disaster
The dying king we all adore

Hand that once would crush, frail and weak and wasted
Iron fist now made of bone
Void of power and decrepit in its vision
Feeling safer in the dark

Floating faces of the damned
What lies behind the eyes?
That see nothing at all
To hold enthralled 

On a sea of broken hope
Somehow we sail along now
Riding on the waves
Of dreams we laid to waste  

Look upon the shores of retribution
Drowning pools of our own fear 
Endless torment in the halls of ever after
Crooked orbit of the fall

Promised life by the giver of salvation
Yet this death was served to all
Suffer torment in the halls of ever after
Endless orbit of the fall

Orbit of the fall
Orbit of the fall
Orbit of the fall

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