Dying season comes again
another winter, another name
Those once endangered, safely under stones
tomorrow might not come, tonight is growing cold

Through tears of stone, they curse our names
And no one looks behind the veil
I've seen this all before, I know the ways
life and limb, atrophied and pale

We inherit the end
we prepare to expire
we claim the danger as our own.

Pallbearers chase, into the grave.
My generation gone, it goes on and on and on.

[Lead: “Carrion, My Wayward Son” by R. Bruchert]

This winter cuts through us again
Another warning, another claimed

We inherit the end
we prepare to expire
we claim the danger as our own.
Until we're safely under stone.

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