Lyrics:
MIRTH AND DUTY;
BEAR THE GOLD-EMBROIDERED DRESS,
FOR SHE NEEDS NOT HER SAD BEAUTY,
TO THE SCENTED OAKEN PRESS.
HERS THE KISS OF MOTHER MARY,
THE LONG
She lies there so peacefully resting beneath the moon
Covered by Death's cold embrace inside her oaken tomb
She left this mortal coil but I see her
Second chances
Always second chances
Never let them pass you by
The universe advances
Keep your head
Place your bets
We're all in
Cold winter
Cold oaken
broken
My heart’s feeling oaken
And only my hope is
Keeping me going
Through all of the motions
Growing explosive
Contained by the ocean
Of all
lady's hall
Take a seat at the oaken table
'neath the night canopy
Raise your cup to the queen of terror
In her red vanity
Golden eyes search your soul
As an oaken bough
And unwilling to bend to their tries
To depart from the life
He had know till now
And their foolish ways he despised
Though the road we build
Her work of God is here now done
Listen closely in the misty nights
Near the abbey's door
You can hear the wails of torture
'Neath the oaken floor
dirt home
Dig an extra grave when you come around
Dirt home, dirt home
At least the worms will be eating good tonight
Bury me in an oaken barrel
That's
Knee deep in a sea of crown
Feeling a weight start to pull me down
Letting the oaken waves wash over me
Alone in an old hotel
Depending on a drink
Chapt. two - guess who? manfred the great
The great king bashed down his goblet on the oaken
table as kings do when they want more wine.
everyone was
My eyes, fraught with oaken sight
Altered by the rite of your air, whispered prayers in mind
Umbrous to your light
Cursed-wordless spy awaiting
spells be unspoken
Speaking now all one million and one of its unutterable names
In perfect dischord
Arrive ye all through oaken egress and augered shrieks
maw
I am waiting
They will come
Red eyed and frothing
They will come
A Shadow looming behind
Beyond the horizon gathered
In lifeless oaken glades
He
Saturday night & I'm sorta hopin'
Wishing my mind again to be open
Here in my room, where the furniture's oaken
Never be the moment when my heart is
here before, in my dreams
I know where this path ends
The stench assaults me as I come upon a black oaken door
The familiar chill as I pull the latch;
Buried under an oaken throne
A slumber of a collective consciousness
A cynical stare of distress
A vicious poetry deformed with every dawn
Swallowed
The Oaken King
Pillar of life
Flesh of the Earth
Sower of seeds
The forest beckons
Come unto me
I have seen the face of
The Hunter
The Sacrifice
Should've stayed a great unknown
Like his father carving wood
He'd have made good
Tables, chairs, and oaken chests
Would've suited Jesus best
He'd have caused
Pour the wine. blow in a dream
What is time but a timeless thing
Held my mind to find its way back again
To that oaken bridge, that rollin' ridge
Last night on the midnight sea
Of perennial grass and oaken leaves
My newfound lover turned to me
And whispered in my ear that she could be
The one
To brew and toil on this soil
Scraped and cut by spades and knives
Prisoner in this oaken chamber, lacquered in varnish and ebony teintures
Ivory linings
I'm the forsaken boy
Exiled into the void
In front a forced choise
Tween darkness and noise
This the forsaken's rule
Into the oaken woods
Trying
Hocus pocus when I speak the motion farewell oaken ash
And I laugh, then I bask, and I ask
Dope and woke and focused spoken
Follow your Love! Follow your
I walk and see the objects around me,
The carving of the ceilings, the sombre tapestries that hung.
The oaken floors, armorial trophies,
All
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