A cold moon casts upon the shore
The fading glance of twilight
The black sea shimmering before us
Fades into the night
Crouched on withered shins
Bent before forever
Blood to tame the spirit of
Loss and the misery
All clean thoughts to sever
From this plagued inheritance
It’s the end of the fall
And the time of the winds
Hear the creaking of boards
And the voice of the storm
A thimble of vinegar is all
That separates the soul
From ruin and regret
The sound of all of those that we lost
It rings
Resounds with every step
Cradled in winter’s sheath
A sun shone forever
Beautiful restless spirit of
This living heresy
Our silent bond irreverent
Hold true to our sacred call
Hear the coming of the spring
And the heat of the thaw
All around us they sing
All these voices they call
Crouched on winter shins
A sun shone forever
Beautiful restless spirit of
This plain of heresy
All clean thoughts to sever
Hold true to our sacred call
It’s the crying of the wind
And the call in the storm
It’s the creaking of boards
It’s the reverent time
And in my head
Sing the resonant dead
Sing the resonant dead
Speak the resonances
Sing the resonant dead
The sound that binds us all
Cradled in withered sheaths
Bent before forever
Blood to tame the spirit of
Lost lives of misery
Our silent bond irreverent
The sound of our plagued inheritance
Hear the herald of the wind
And the creaking of boards
Hear the voice of the storm
And the end that surrounds