Authors - The Harrow Weald Lyrics

Here the dead shall never leave

Ghosts swarm the land; I stand before a horde of tortured souls
What a dark and brooding atmosphere
And I hear dismal ghosts murmur incantations while the ancients peer back at this wanderer

I detect artifice in their motives, but their humming is so soothing, they fade in and out of focus
Their teeth remind me of death, rotting, decomposing; waiting to devour my flesh
I'm drawn to the most obscene places, led into a swamp, guided by their unseen faces
I've let mistakes claim my identity, there's an altar dedicated to my lifelong iniquities

The trees here have grown wise, and in a different age they would be kind
Disease has claimed the lives of so many I can see
Outlined against the sky, they waste and wither, pulling like veins, they draw me in to redeem me
Lost in all that I could be, or ever was before the hands of the weald wielded me to the last day

I thirst to drink up the secrets of the shadows, spew it up for the taste
I've been strung up by the gallows
Hundreds of animal corpses hanging, swinging in the breeze
I wanted to turn back, but there's something here keeping me

The sky seeps and bleeds black rain
Dim light peers through and wills the moon to reign
Divide up the burl and the bone
Describe this harrowed hell I call home

Do they mock me as I walk by? Is black ink seeping from the crows dark eyes?
I see a horrifying image projected in the mist
But I'm pressing on; they're guiding me - I could never resist

I can't resist

I lie ill and supine; staring up into the gentle auroras lighting the night sky
Imagine that I'm thrown to the void; cast into the blank canvas leaving my essence destroyed