Slumbering through the burning desert, total lack of liquid
Oh gods of this place, please bring me thy vine
I could almost drink the blood of Jesus
I would dry his veins until he fell down in a pile of skin

I fell down out of exhaustion,
my face met the ground my mouth was filled with sand
And my skin was boiling from the sun
The vultures stared circling above me,
I was almost ready to give my body to the birds of doom
Lay myself to rot in the burning sand fields, I was dying....

...but then, a mighty dark shape rised before me
and gave me shelter from the sun
It was a god - the god of them all,
and indeed he had brought a bottle of vine... the blood of himself
He spoke a distant language and granted me the bottle
I received it with my shivering pale hands... I drank the vine,
and as I steadily came to myself
The god slowly vanished with the dust,
except that of him which he had left in the bottle.


Lyrics submitted by Bloodmouth

Image of the Horned King song meanings
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