Silent Gatherers Lyrics

The shared, the pores, the crack shall honor the bliss.
Only the blood has limits in heritage remains.
The growth of bastards and hating evil makes a bigger bid.
Real proof of what delights the weeping in the woods.

The sphere still whirls, even across a new dawn.
Moving seems in a sense to impart a glad voice
And climb the ladder ascending blessed and merciful nature.
Pursued upward, the path excluding the bliss of the higher spheres.

Increasing, doubtfully, the silent gatherers of dawn.
Reverting is done much sooner than in the past.
Thirsting in temples stirs the acid in the hag's hand.
It can grind so much more than a grin in the saddle.

Sitting on the bomb actually unfolds all the gates of the mind.
Forgiveness struggles with all the aliases, ending this journey.
Gathering and leveling rooms scrape visits of pure joy.
Dunnest gloom and blinded voices without any compassion at all.

Taking the sins away, looking more towards the past than in the future.
Master's spirits, with their prelude, is more fun now.
Bitter air stumbles with smoke and divides the passage,
Beautiful once, but not anymore, in this sinless time.