كلمات The Ebony Clock

Verse 1: The ebony clock feigned and scorned Spins the web of our lives forlorn The raven claws at the sins of our past Midnight tolls behind obsidian glass Chorus 1: What lies behind the arms bekoning call? An unquenchable pyre or nothing at all What morbid truths linger inside waiting? To taunt our future with the blackest of hates Verse 2: 13 monks ascend the hill Torches illuminate the night ever still In search of reason they ponder our dead Shrouded in doubt they join the dead Chorus 2: What lies behind the arms beckoning call? Would you die to find it is nothing at all? Does the tolling ring louder for you every dawn? Will you rest in peace or in hellfire burn?