Agalloch – Into the Painted Grey


If mozart ever got drunk in the swamp i am sure he wrote something like this

Artist: Agalloch
Album: Marrow of the Spirit
Year: 2010

Lyrics:
The jagged lines in these wooden hands
speak of a silent aeon below the depths
of an austere ebon tide
for centuries kingdoms have risen
upon the ancient hands of a god
once severed for the world’s birth
a sacrifice to the storms of life
now darkness is thine sanctum
Temples of magma steam across the grey
The arc that transcends my iconic pride
For I am not an ageless god, no, I am imprisoned by time
These ancient palms shall once again be mine
Hands… hands that lift the oceans
to vertical depths above the stars
For when I die, the universe will die with me
and all will be lost forever gone
Where am I?
How long shall I suffer here?
Forlorn in the cold neolithic embrace
Forsaken deep in the sullen tide
How long shall I suffer here?
Perched on the cliffside gazing out into the brine
My archaic beard pours downward and joins the feral sea
I am the heritage; the quintessence of myth and legend
The archetype of Pagan might and divinity
Hands… hands that lift the oceans
to vertical depths beyond the stars
I gather a celestial blanket around these tired bones
and finally slumber in the clouds of ice
These are my hands…
…so it is done

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