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You Were But A Ghost In My Arms Lyrics
Like snowfall, you cry a silent storm
Your tears paint rivers on this oaken wall. . .
Amber nectar, misery ichor
. . .cascading in streams of hallowed form
For each stain, a forsaken shadow
You are the lugubrious spirit
Etched in the oak of wonder
You are the sullen voice and silent storm
Each night I lay
Awakened by her shivering silent voice
From the shapes in the corridor walls.
It pierces the solitude like that of a distant scream
In the pitch-black forest of my delusion. . .
With each passing day, a deeper grave. . .
"Why did you leave me to die?"
"Why did you abandon me?"
"Why did you walk away and leave me bitterly yearning?"
Her haunting, contorted despair was etched into the wood's grain
Though fire rages within me, no fire burns fiercer than her desire
The shape whispers my name. . .
I damn this oak!
I damn her sorrow!
I damn these oaken corridors
That bear the ghosts of those I've thrown away!
Though tempted I am to caress her texture divine
And taste her pain sweet, sweet like brandy wine;
I must burn these halls, these corridors
And silence her shrill, tormenting voice
. . .forever. . .
Like snowfall, you cried a silent storm
No tears stain this dust in my hands
But from this ashen gray, her voice still
Whispers my name. . .
You were the lugubrious spirit
Who haunted the oak of wonder
You were the geist that warned this frozen silent storm
You were but a ghost in my arms
Your tears paint rivers on this oaken wall. . .
Amber nectar, misery ichor
. . .cascading in streams of hallowed form
For each stain, a forsaken shadow
Etched in the oak of wonder
You are the sullen voice and silent storm
Awakened by her shivering silent voice
From the shapes in the corridor walls.
It pierces the solitude like that of a distant scream
In the pitch-black forest of my delusion. . .
"Why did you abandon me?"
"Why did you walk away and leave me bitterly yearning?"
Though fire rages within me, no fire burns fiercer than her desire
The shape whispers my name. . .
I damn her sorrow!
I damn these oaken corridors
That bear the ghosts of those I've thrown away!
And taste her pain sweet, sweet like brandy wine;
I must burn these halls, these corridors
And silence her shrill, tormenting voice
. . .forever. . .
No tears stain this dust in my hands
But from this ashen gray, her voice still
Whispers my name. . .
Who haunted the oak of wonder
You were the geist that warned this frozen silent storm
You were but a ghost in my arms
Add your song meanings, interpretations, facts, memories & more to the community.
I think I got it. I was NEVER able to interpret a song in my life. I think this song is about fog. Im very excited to think this but heres my theory. "Like snowfall, you cry a silent storm." Fog isnt loud like a thunderstorm, its silent like snowfall. "your tears. . .oaken wall" Im gonna guess the moisture from the fog is leaving moss, possibly. The amber nectar is sap, my guess. some of the other lyrics could of just been thrown in there for the music or the flow but lastly. you were but a ghost in my arms. You cant catch fog, its un-catch-able. :)
Nightmares of sorrowful memories that haunt the mind.
In Maryland Deathfest X, John Haugm said that this song is about 'madness, the supernatural, and fever'...
Like snowfall, you cry a silent storm. Your tears paint rivers on this oaken wall...
Amber nectar, misery ichor, Cascading in streams of hallowed form. For each stain, a forsaken shadow.
You are the lugubrious spirit, Etched in the oak of wonder. You are the sullen voice and the silent storm.
Each night I lay, awakened by her shivering silent voice, From the shapes in the corridor walls. It pierces the solitude, Like that of a distant scream, In the pitch black forest of my delusion...
With each passing day, A deeper grave...
Why did you leave me to die? Why did you abandon me? Why did you walk away, And leave me bitterly yearning?
Her haunting, contorted despair was etched into the wood's grain. Though fire rages within me, No fire burns fiercer than her desire. The shape whispers my name...
I, damn this oak. I, damn her sorrow. I, damn these oaken corridors, That bear the ghosts of those I've thrown away.
Though tempted I am to caress her texture divine And taste her pain sweet, Sweet like brandy wine. I must burn these halls, These corridors, And silence her shrill tormenting voice, Forever...
Like snowfall, you cried a silent storm. Your tears stain this dust in my hands.
But from this ashen gray, her voice, Whispers my name...
You were the lugubrious spirit, Who haunted the oak of wonder. You were the geist that warned, This frozen silent storm.
You were but a ghost in my arms.
Hotsoupwoman has it pretty dead on, in my opinion.
The many references to "her" and "she" aren't exactly metaphors but the way Haughm uses "the woods grain" ties in with the other songs on the album "I am the Wooden Doors", and how beautifully done it is too.