Shower under the sands of time
Granules cleanse a mountain of grime
Wash til bone becomes the earth
Soil to ash like the lives you birth
No more time for the voices in your head
They sing and they dance with the dead
It's the magic, the roots from which you bled
Tales of All Mighty are inked with bloodshed
Talismans burden the hoodwinked heart
Purging and splitting worlds apart
The rupture will embody all who we are
Dogma produced, stigmata scars
No more time for the voices in your head
They sing and they dance with the dead
It's the magic, the roots from which you bled
Tales of All Mighty are inked with bloodshed
No more time for the voices in your head
They sing and they dance with the dead
It's the magic, the roots from which you bled
Tales of All Mighty are inked with bloodshed