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The crippled oracle breathes his lungs like grit
His blackened hands, like maps of ungodly lands
Skin as leather, burnt by the sun
This world is not for him, this world is not for you nor I
When the gods were young, the burden was less
It was not grief and it was not fear
Who cast the shadow upon our age?
Who has crippled the young and blinded their eyes?
He counts the hours, days and awful years
To when the children stare into the sun
The mountains crumble to the sea
And our civilizations turn to dust
They are turned to dust
So slumber watcher, till the spheres
Have turned ten and twenty thousand years
The crippled oracle breathes, his lungs like grit
This world is not for him, this world is not for you nor I
- Album:
- Where Greater Men Have Fallen
- Imrama
- Miscellaneous
- Redemption At The Puritans Hand-
- Gods to the Godless (Live)
- 2011 Metal Blade Records Sampler
- 2011 Metal Blade Records UK Sampler
- EMP Music Mag Sampler, Volume III
- One and All, Together, For Home
- To the Nameless Dead
- Metal Hammer #176: Razor
- Hellfest 2008 Sampler
- All Empires Fall
- Spirit the Earth Aflame
- Gods to the Godless (Live at Bang Your Head Festival...
- Dark Romanticism
- The Gathering Wilderness
- Storm Before Calm
- The Burning Season
- Blood Ceremonies