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Carved out of stone, earth, blood and bone |
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Knock the mountains down |
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The earth's grating sounds |
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They soothe the great machines |
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That yearn desperately |
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Just to lay them down within her gaping mouth |
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More than a symbol |
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More than I bargained for |
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They wander ridges high |
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Between the earth and sky |
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Like spikes upon a crown we wear upon our brow |
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And want is not a need reserved for human beings |
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It's fingers on your throat |
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Is pain that all things know |
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An army of the golems is stalking, now, the heart's lands |
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Eating all reality |
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Producing only dust and sand |
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Nothing hurts them |
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Nothing gets under their stone skin |
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And when their earthen mouths will open up |
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Just what words should come out? but |
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"we wish we were dead" |
