The winter's coming closer again, you can feel its cold through the cracks that you left in this house. And you left them far and wide. Through the window, shards of broken glass that I use to see my reflection. The reflection of a ghost.
We wear these scars on our arms as trophies, but each demarks a broken kinship. And I have failed. I have been beaten. We know not of the roads we travel, perhaps their names but surely not their histories in each of us, in our families. A icey grip at my throat is kicking my heart awake.
Track Name: The Righteous and the Wicked
Fate would hold our hand if we weren't so stone cold, but instead she ties the noose around our necks for the wicked deeds we have committed. She will punish the wicked and I will stand by her side. With a handshake and nod the Devil comments on how sorrowful the loss of a son can be, but the loss of that son played right into his hands.
A New England Autumn day, the perfect day for a funeral. And underneath that veil, I swear I saw a smile as you thought back to those dark nights in back rooms with the Morningstar, where you plotted murder for the Golden Calf. Not even all the silver in the world could bring him back and besides all the wealth is in your chests. We never meant to live this way, we'd take it back if we could. Hunted in these hollow walls, chasing ghosts of the past.
I will cut from you the righteous and the wicked.
I will cut from you the moist and the dry.
I will cut from you the light and the darkness.
I will cut from you, I will not even have to try.