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Once, I think I half remembered,
Ere the grey skies of November.
The cliff walls climb above the rising tide,
The sea, softly glowing embers.
So burn, burn for me father.
Burn in your tower above,
Gilded by the blood of your long faithless sons.
(Lost to the deep)

She's a hurricane
As the waves all roll me over,
Like a weight that I just can't get off my chest.
Under the water where the darkness hides the days,
Beneath the surface,
Beneath the Waves

There is snow on the ground,
And the valleys are cold,
And a midnight profound,
Blackly squats o'er the world.
But a light on the hill,
Half seen,
hints at feasts,
Unhallowed and old.

There is death in the clouds.
There is fear in the night
For the dead in their shrouds.

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