| Hand Of Glory |
|
Ashen the world creates itself / Up the branches down the roots / Pecked at
by birds / By worms gnawed / At the crossroads / By the graves among the
rowan trees / Nailed white as ivory / With skulls that grin amidst the rot
For strange are these woods to fare / Stranger the fruit they bear
Oh hang me high / Upon that tree / For all the secrets to find me / As
ravens' claws / As eagles' bills / As Wotan's eyes upon the hills / Oh ten I
have of fingers fine / For all the evil's work in the night / Oh baby I will
grow for you from a tree
Burning with glory
Given to trolls and ogre broods / Days will drown in twilight's gloom /
Where black dogs howl / Pulling up mandragore / Chained to the ash forever
more / Deaf to the world's grey roar / Digging up treasures vile and foul
Eye for an eye for a rune / Drawing down the waning moon / Howled at by all
wolves / Ensnared 'til the day of doom
So hang me high / Upon that tree / For all the secrets to find me / As
ravens' claws / As eagles' bills / As Wotan's eyes upon the hills / Oh ten I
have of fingers fine / For all the evil's work in the night / Oh baby I will
grow for you from a tree
Burning with glory
All crooks and ghouls who understand / Cherish the work of idle hands / All
of the pages turned / All of the treasures yearned / All of the fingers
burned
Burning with Glory
|
| |
|
