Paroles de Where Hours Etch Their Name

Wind's fingers caress the tips of corn fields Howling gusts recount misery to autumn leaves Planes repose beneath immense necrose livid air Like the chill that is sung deep from within Deep from within the earth Echoes from a soil, a witness of aeons drenched in sore Murmuring whispers haunting Spiralling voices enraging Trepid dissonant chants cling Perpetual unremmitting malady With eyes sown afloat in a void Lurking in hideous abodes Cling to the depths of poverty Perpetual unremmitting malady Like the chill that is sung deep Deep from down within the earth The stones upon which hours etch their name Roll and fall into abysmal depths To meet the buried sea To sink unread until the end of all time Absorbed in the folding heaviness of silence At one with the null Morphed shades start taking shape into forms bizzarelly Minsijin maz-zmien Like the chill that is sung deep Deep from down within the earth