09 - The Obsydian Lament | Saints on Fire

Описание: Lyrics:

The last train left the station long ago,
Just rusted rails and a pale moon’s glow.
The city sleeps, a cold and careless stone,
And I am tied to this place, alone.

Oh, the poison in the ritual,
the promise in the lie,
Underneath a hollow, weeping sky.
We chase the fading echo of a distant, dying beat,
And find the bitter ashes where the fire met.

The velvet curtains hide no grand design,
Just empty bottles and the dregs of wine.
You speak of futures built on shifting sand,
I know the clock is ticking in my hand.

Oh, the poison in the ritual,
the promise in the lie,
Underneath a hollow, weeping sky.
We chase the fading echo of a distant, dying beat,
And find the bitter ashes where the fire met.

This desert waits for water,
but the clouds refuse to burst.
We drank the promise dry,
now we only taste the thirst.

The morning always breaks the perfect spell,
Exposing truths we guarded far too well.
I put on black to mourn the day ahead,
And join the legion of the walking dead.

Oh, the poison in the ritual,
the promise in the lie,
Underneath a hollow, weeping sky.
We chase the fading echo of a distant, dying beat,
And find the bitter ashes where the fire met.

Fade out with machine drum beat...
Just the dust and the rain...
Never more...
Never more...

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"The Obsydian Lament" is a haunting exploration of emotional desolation and the hollow architecture of broken illusions. It navigates a landscape of rusted rails and "careless stone," where the protagonist is tethered to a stagnant reality long after the world has moved on. Lyrically, it dissects the "poison in the ritual"—the deceptive comfort of lies that sustain us until the "perfect spell" of night is shattered by the unforgiving morning. Through visceral metaphors of a desert that refuses to rain and "bitter ashes" where fire once burned, the song captures the exhaustion of chasing a dying echo. It is a grim procession toward the "legion of the walking dead," where the ticking clock and a fading machine beat serve as the final, mechanical heartbeat of a world that has truly reached its "never more."
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