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Upon Pillars Of Dust - At the Gates
Fragile quiet and distant
As flesh against another
Heroism suppressed
Leaving hunger in it's wake
Tired even of sleep
A fragment of life
No more pain
The nights they will drag on
These hands will not abide
A nightmare beckons
Leaving death in it's wake
The sickness is a dream
Imprisoned in the deep of the stone
Reality resting upon pillars of dust
The infinite voracious arms of myth
Trying even out sleep
With death in our way
The sickness is a dream
Imprisoned in the deep of the stone
Reality resting upon pillars of dust
The infinite voracious arms of myth
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