The Valley
Morean / V. Santura
Another promise broken
Another falsehood thrown to the dogs
Time and time again we swallow
Our throats torn by the barbed fruit of iniquity
On our knees we wither
Starving on a hollow phantom
Discarded playthings, we crave in vain
For the benign almighty lie
Fools that we are
Even as our star goes under
We cling to the noose that will break our necks
To the benighted psalms of priests drunk with conceit
Like in the valley of linnom
Murdered by divinity
Our grievance shades the mountains
Our gifted souls became a pyre
The day the heavens part
God shall perish in our fire
When the final perfidy
Bleeds from the skies
Our abject eyes will see the truth
Death
Death from above
Forsaken lepers rot away
Away