There is more than just [?]
Fu Inlé, these clouds bode ill
From the earth we ran out
That eve, that heralded night
For man came knocking at our doors
Sank teeth within our homes
In those quiet hours where the elil ruled
The sky, the ground, our thoughts
We prayed for pity, but received none
We gasped for breath, but no breath came
There is no [?]
Forgive us, El-Ahrairah, prophet of two faces
Deceitful, delirious, right hand of embleer Frith
Bore down on us all, scattering minds like skeleton leaves
Hrair thethuthinnang
Weak-willed we were, incoherent
Frith the lagging star, hung on pitchfork lies
Weak-willed we were, incoherent
Slay him down, deific abhorrence
Slay him down
Frith lies still in charred soil
We silflay upon his bones
Dance in his carrion eyes
Tear his flesh with ideas
Bore within him like worms
Bore within him like worms
Frith the lagging star, hung on pitchfork lies
Weak-willed we were, incoherent
Frith the lagging star, hung on pitchfork lies
Weak-willed we were
Slay him down
Embellished with caustic runes
Buried cities, burrow graves
We stand in ragged rows
Tharn Eyes sullen with loss
Disembodied he wanders the wastes
Three-headed elil
Frith, Ahrairah, Inlé
Baying for our heed
Cloying at our arms
Eyes wet with tears
But we will not cry for you
We will not cry for you
We march in atrophy
His hands still claw and swoon
Sombre we tread in quiet regress
Amidst the fallen
Friend and fetid foe
Their blood smears as one
And so our cause is whole
Warrens yawn wide
Engulf us all in tow
We will lie here
Beside these vanquished souls
We never ceased feeling
We only opened our eyes
Ended half said prayers
This fallen lord we vilify