Murder by Death - White Noise

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The oceans'll seethe
And have no reprieve
For the weak
And the damned
The creatures of the sea
Will make homes
Of the bones
That drift endlessly
(As far as the eye can see)
The mountains sink into the earth
And amidst the crumbling dirt
The stragglers clutch their young
As if there's something to be done
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Will they record
The descending of the hoarde
With a black box that contains
The echoes, the shouts, the strains
Of the last
You've heard the stories of me
You know what I can do
I take the ember's of man's anger
And there's nothing I can't spin them into
You hear me whisper to you
I see you recognize my face
A familiar pulse
Calling out from the empty spaces
"Meet me in the valley"