Mark R Slaughter - But For Being Lost lyrics

As black imbued black, so was rendered the pitch of darkness That befogged this godforsaken yard of graves - And too the dank, ‘til now forgotten chapel that Did little to grace these forlorn grounds. Yet here stood I, seemingly first to tread this weed-ridden soil Since times of yore when life had erstwhile blessed this land. But for being lost in solitude - as does a country wanderer - Would I not have happened across this morbid landscape. And though detail rendered barely visible to my naked eye – For desperately had the moon tried to break through this jet fog – A sense of something suffused the place. Was it those tormented spirits desperate for absolution, Or perhaps the gargoyles teasing me on whether they be of stone or living flesh? I was drawn to the oak door as it enticingly opened in pa**age for me. The organ called from down the nave and through the pale orange of unsteady light - that which could only be mustered from the few discoloured, moribund candles. Could I also hear a distant choir of stern voices, as if in effort to scold me? As I approached, those tarnished pipes came into view. Standing erect with gothic pride, they bore down on me with patronising air - Exaggerated by the disjointed sneering of minor chords, As if to state that insignificant I had henceforth no grant of solace. In answer, I steadied my rocking legs and racing mind to wonder of this scenario. And in doing so, I found myself waking from a cramped dream – Whence the message dawned: mine had been such a claustrophobic life.