A Vast Tomb
It's a whisper that starts inside you. You can hear it in your gut at night. In desperate times it grows inside And the screams become unbearable. They shriek louder Inviting death to take your hand. Is there a curse upon this land Or is the devil's work at hand? There are liars, cowards and traitors To stand trial when we meet again. Abandoned and evicted from our hearts, May the Landlord carry this one forth. Trevelyn, Peel, Russel and Wood, We will have words when we meet again in death. Fallen leaves blow across barren fields… Autumn breeze carries the stench of our times… In the veins of the night. I remember a time of light hearts And full bellies and floral dreams. The currency is lost so a toll has not been paid And the Reaper comes to collect his due. Why must I grovel in the dirt When I just want to eat the hurt… Or anything at all. Is there a curse upon this land Or is the devil's work at hand? There are liars, cowards and traitors To stand trial when we meet again. Abandoned and evicted from our hearts, May the Landlord carry this one forth. Trevelyn, Peel, Russel and Wood, We will have words when we meet again in death. Fallen leaves blow across barren fields… Autumn breeze carries the stench of our times… In the veins of the night. Solo: P.Q. Sunlight dries out… Hope leaves. Candles burn out… Hope leaves. Crosses dry out as reeds. Crosses, they die as reeds.
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 18, 2026
Ireland has become a vast tomb. A tomb who's shadow is cast As far as the present. A fungus from further West that spread Through a dark, damp wind. And brought with it draconian mind. Wind-borne infestation and politics-borne evil. Fade to white in the dead of night. The cold, the hunger, the constant suffering. I forever see remains devoured by dogs on the street. I forever hear wailing of the young and old. Within a vast tomb.
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 18, 2026