In Bromine Chambers
there can be no mercy,
no bitter flagellation for your sins
no forgiveness and no sackcloth
can cease the dance
of ashes on the wind.
Too late now for a wish
to change all wishing
too late to change, to breathe, to grow.
Too late to smother out the tell-tale footprints
which mark your passage through the greying snow
there can be no mercy,
no bitter flagellation for your sins
no forgiveness and no sackcloth
can cease the dance
of ashes on the wind.
Too late now for a wish
to change all wishing
too late to change, to breathe, to grow.
Too late to smother out the tell-tale footprints
which mark your passage through the greying snow
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Clutch
Chameleon In The Shadow Of The Night
Fool's Mate