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This place of eternal rot
The ground feels like my home
We shall lay you down here
In consecrated dust
The mark will show
The final pages entombed
Relief when I see the hex
Now a horror so great
Here lies my bed
Giles, of the cloth
The body is dead, yet still I walk
My life is lost
Iâve spilled his blood
The ground tells nothing
Writhing not, new tomb must be
Buried in unhallowed earth
The two were here, I know
I mean all harm, so heed my word
Now let you sit and talk of pages
Or be born of cold flesh
When we find the hex
By the smoke of the vane
But why do you hide this?
Where is my way
The vane spins one last time
Shall we end it now?
I will take her to hereafter
Shall you hand to me
Before the end
Fore the dawn of today
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