[<soft intro>] I step into the cellar, slipping past the door, I creep away from screaming, blood drying on the floor Epitome, ye pit of thee, a sublime and secret failure. I know a graven gentry, born and battle bred, who stood with men his lesser yet (now) lay in battle dead. [<rising build>] (I hide in secret places, away from raging faces I stay quiet as the dead and all the war that's said) I'd tell ya how to bind it, that dripping gut of fear, but then you'll have to listen, for that, you'd have to hear. And who might hear for chattering, that bullish pounded battering, what makes us kneel when near. [<climactic arpeggio>] (Can they find me, break and bind me keep me here forever Or shall I sleep in the never?) Doom to reach for Fate to teach, this lesson never learned, like fire, like light, one burned, one bright, and--- never mind, o never mind, hell must yet be needed, heeded or defeated, seen and from it turned away. Then build your dream a little, stone by feet of clay, and maybe you may see it, the ending of the day. [<synchonic harmonies>] step into a the cellar, slipping past the door, I creep away from screaming, blood drying on the floor And I look up to battle, that ceaseless raging rattle, and think... think please, no more...
