Beyond the village lights
Each night be sure to gripe
Tight in your palm the ring
Blackened in May's fire
Oh hear the tinker's pot
With the names of dirt's gods
Wherein's summoned the fever
That breathes with the frost
The hands shall remain black
The stone bridge workers
The warning, they didn't obey
"You shall not sit to rest
Under the fig tree's cursed shade"
They woke up into the night
Right fingers paralyzed
Like they had been worked
Inside the Devil's own fire
Through the small fire
Within the bridge's base
A huge hand moves and pounds
In the innards of the earth
Your salvation lies
With the wandering black man
Who shepherds his huge florins
And makes the Old Ones shake
The florins, they are nurtured
By creatures behind mirrors
That left the hand behind
On to the graves they're due for
Kemerov - Black Right Hands Lyrics
Kemerov - Black Right Hands Lyrics
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English
Beyond the village lights
Each night be sure to gripe
Tight in your palm the ring
Blackened in May's fire
Oh hear the tinker's pot
With the names of dirt's gods
Wherein's summoned the fever
That breathes with the frost
The hands shall remain black
The stone bridge workers
The warning, they didn't obey
"You shall not sit to rest
Under the fig tree's cursed shade"
They woke up into the night
Right fingers paralyzed
Like they had been worked
Inside the Devil's own fire
Through the small fire
Within the bridge's base
A huge hand moves and pounds
In the innards of the earth
Your salvation lies
With the wandering black man
Who shepherds his huge florins
And makes the Old Ones shake
The florins, they are nurtured
By creatures behind mirrors
That left the hand behind
On to the graves they're due for
Each night be sure to gripe
Tight in your palm the ring
Blackened in May's fire
Oh hear the tinker's pot
With the names of dirt's gods
Wherein's summoned the fever
That breathes with the frost
The hands shall remain black
The stone bridge workers
The warning, they didn't obey
"You shall not sit to rest
Under the fig tree's cursed shade"
They woke up into the night
Right fingers paralyzed
Like they had been worked
Inside the Devil's own fire
Through the small fire
Within the bridge's base
A huge hand moves and pounds
In the innards of the earth
Your salvation lies
With the wandering black man
Who shepherds his huge florins
And makes the Old Ones shake
The florins, they are nurtured
By creatures behind mirrors
That left the hand behind
On to the graves they're due for
Writer: Matthaios Karampalios
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid