Tower Crabs Again (Ver 2 Cover)

Viking Metal, Dark Celtic, Celtic Metal, Viking Chant, Deep voice, Irish Accent

Draw the line, draw the line, the void runs long,
No air, no heat, no sound, just a hollow song,
Other Realm winks, Other Realm blinks,
I fell through a seam, lost the threads, forgot the links.
Crabs again, crabs again, in storm and fog and frost,
Claw on claw, I cannot count, every fight already lost,

They whispered in Shiddven, and old Faeven hums,
I gave them my boots, my lute, my thumb.
Draw the cube, draw the cube, the cube flips, the cube spins,
Seafaring, Shorefaring, Suitfaring, Steamfaring sins,
Spacefaring stretches, Screenfaring shifts,
The worlds collide in slow, uneven drifts.
Crabs march slow, crabs march fast, crabs march upside down,
I chased them barefoot, dragged my cape like a torn crown,
Lightning flickers, thunder blinks, rain like black ink,
I tried to fight, I tried to run, I tried to think.
Draw the line, draw the line, top to bottom, side to side,
Ten above, void between, middle cube, left-right collide,
The Giants snore, the dragons yawn,
Crabs dance in the street until dawn.
Crabs again, crabs again, claw and pin and snap,
I fell in a puddle, lost my map, my nap, my trap,
Somewhere left, somewhere right, somewhere high, somewhere low,
The cube flips slow. The cube flips slow.
She tells it bright beneath a silver hood,
I bow it low through the old dark wood,
She gives the crab a crown and a grin,
I give the strings what crawled within.
She tells it once, I answer twice,
She warms the hall, I edge it with ice,
Neither says whose memory came,
We only turn the crab again.
Fo for under, muir for sea,

Scholars argue; the crabs agree,
Under the tide and under the floor,
The old dark ones were there before.
Under-muir, under-muir, armored in foam,
They named the drowned edge their first home,
Storm in the marrow, winter in bone,
They found each shore already claiming its own.
Goat-head, horse-head, bull-horn grin,
One arm out and one leg in,
One great eye and a sideways pace,
Hard to forget, though history tried to erase.
A crab looked up and the Giants looked down,
Neither knew who first owned the crown,
The shore kept ledgers, the deep kept scars,
Both claimed the land by counting older stars.
Black isle west where the gulls wheel slow,
Tory kept what the ledgers didn’t know,
A tower of salt, a throne of spray,
And two collectors taking three shares a day.
Two of the milk and two of the grain,
Two of the children in winter rain,
They left one-third and called it fair,
The crab checked twice. The third was not there.
Crabs again, crabs again, count the load,
Two for the tower, one for the road,
Free every cell, make the old locks fall,
Then find fresh prisoners to fill them all.

3067/7500

Tower Guard. Keep Guard. WAR light won’t bend or fake. When walls still answer every call Blue goes out with the wall. Yellow is faith that learned to beg. Prayer cut thin to buy a breath. Thaumaturge whispers in the cracks, Ritualist tallies what comes back. Faithmancer dims the holy hue, SIN-class light turns dark yellow. Hard to see. Easy to miss. It kills you quiet, like forgiveness. Tower Guard. Keep Guard. Draw the line, draw the line, the void runs long, No air, no heat, no sound, just a hollow song, Other Realm winks, Other Realm blinks, I fell through a seam, lost the threads, forgot the links. Crabs again, crabs again, in storm and fog and frost, Claw on claw, I cannot count, every fight already lost, They whispered in Shiddven, and old Faeven hums, I gave them my boots, my lute, my thumb. Draw the cube, draw the cube, the cube flips, the cube spins, Seafaring, Shorefaring, Suitfaring, Steamfaring sins, Spacefaring stretches, Screenfaring shifts, The worlds collide in slow, uneven drifts. Crabs march slow, crabs march fast, crabs march upside down, I chased them barefoot, dragged my cape like a torn crown, Lightning flickers, thunder blinks, rain like black ink, I tried to fight, I tried to run, I tried to think. Draw the line, draw the line, top to bottom, side to side, Ten above, void between, middle cube, left-right collide, The Giants snore, the dragons yawn, Crabs dance in the street until dawn. Crabs again, crabs again, claw and pin and snap, I fell in a puddle, lost my map, my nap, my trap, Somewhere left, somewhere right, somewhere high, somewhere low, The cube flips slow. The cube flips slow. She tells it bright beneath a silver hood, I bow it low through the old dark wood, She gives the crab a crown and a grin, I give the strings what crawled within. She tells it once, I answer twice, She warms the hall, I edge it with ice, Neither says whose memory came, We only turn the crab again. Fo for under, muir for sea, Scholars argue; the crabs agree, Under the tide and under the floor, The old dark ones were there before. Under-muir, under-muir, armored in foam, They named the drowned edge their first home, Storm in the marrow, winter in bone, They found each shore already claiming its own. Goat-head, horse-head, bull-horn grin, One arm out and one leg in, One great eye and a sideways pace, Hard to forget, though history tried to erase. A crab looked up and the Giants looked down, Neither knew who first owned the crown, The shore kept ledgers, the deep kept scars, Both claimed the land by counting older stars. Black isle west where the gulls wheel slow, Tory kept what the ledgers didn’t know, A tower of salt, a throne of spray, And two collectors taking three shares a day. Two of the milk and two of the grain, Two of the children in winter rain, They left one-third and called it fair, The crab checked twice. The third was not there. Crabs again, crabs again, count the load, Two for the tower, one for the road, Free every cell, make the old locks fall, Then find fresh prisoners to fill them all.

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