(INTRO)
(Distorted, low-frequency hum. A sudden explosion of double-bass drumming and a screeching, dissonant guitar riff.)
(VERSE 1)
The silver is cold in the traitor’s palm
A garden of sweat becomes a garden of blood
The shadows of olives are reaching like claws
While the lawmen sharpen their wooden laws!
No lightning strikes, no angels descend
Just the rhythmic march of the bitter end
Kiss the cheek, ignite the fuse
The King is bound in a crown of bruises!
(VERSE 2)
Six hours of mockery, six hours of spit
The velvet is torn, the fire is lit
Pilate washes the guilt from his skin
While the mob drinks deep from the wine of sin!
The lash is a tongue that licks the bone
He carries the forest, he carries it alone
Drag the timber through the city of stone
The throne is a wreck, the wreck is a throne!
(CHORUS)
Nails in the light, thorns in the breath
Dancing on the razor of a holy death
The sky turns black, the veil starts to tear
There’s a god-shaped hole in the freezing air!
(VERSE 3)
Lifted high on a fractured spine
The water is bitter, the blood is the wine
The clock is a hammer, the seconds are lead
Counting the heartbeats of the living dead!
Total eclipse. The curtain is shredded.
The debt is paid. The doom is embedded.
(BRIDGE)
(Tempo drops into a sludge-heavy, crushing breakdown. Vocals shift to a gutteral growl.)
Hammer.
Steel.
Wood.
Weight.
The sun is dying in a copper sky!
The sun is dying!
The earth is screaming a hollow lie!
The earth is screaming!
DRIVE. THE. SPIKE.
(CHORUS)
Nails in the light, thorns in the breath
Dancing on the razor of a holy death
The sky turns black, the veil starts to tear
There’s a god-shaped hole in the freezing air!
(VERSE 4)
The dust of Jerusalem chokes out the sun
The race to the bottom has finally been won!
Heaving in silence, the lungs start to fail
The gravity of heaven is pinned to a nail!
Look at the sky—it’s a blackened glass
Watching the ghost of the universe pass
The soldiers are gambling for rags in the dirt
While the soul of the world is a canyon of hurt!
(CHORUS)
Nails in the light, thorns in the breath
Dancing on the razor of a holy death
The sky turns black, the veil starts to tear
There’s a god-shaped hole in the freezing air!
(CHORUS)
Nails in the light, thorns in the breath
Dancing on the razor of a holy death
The sky turns black, the veil starts to tear
There’s a god-shaped hole in the freezing air!
(OUTRO)
(High-speed d-beat drumming. High-pitched feedback.)
IT IS FINISHED.
IT IS FINISHED.
IT IS FINISHED.
RevelationStudios
