Seasoned Scythe

from by The Keep

/

lyrics

Mortal devotees: akin to the dead.
The same deep rooted weeds grow inside their heads.
Softest autumn breeze, does enough to guide.
T’ward the steady hand that wields the seasoned scythe.
The swing to clear the land. The swing to reap the slain.
To make mortals understand, and the dead to die again.

“We weren’t to know, how futile our stride
‘Til his flames outran our footsteps.
We couldn’t know, how worthless our lives,
‘Til he came and forced us to accept.”

“Damned screams are endless.
Man and beast bore witness.”

“Father? Do I live again?
Mother? What hell is this?”

Mortal devotees: akin to the dead.
The same deep rooted weeds grow inside their heads.
Softest autumn breeze, does enough to guide.
T’ward the steady hand that wields the seasoned scythe.
The swing to clear the land. The swing to reap the slain.
To make mortals understand, and the dead to die again.
The swing to clear the land. The swing to reap the slain.
To make mortals understand, and the dead to die again.

credits

from Lifeless Empire, released May 5, 2013

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The Keep Cardiff, UK

Lay open your heart to the benign indifference of the universe.

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