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The Song Of The Tomb Lyrics
From the north to the south
From the east to the west
All that waits for me is the grave
I have been where my brothers lay fallen
And my kind are as slaves
Bloodied yet unbowed
I sing a song of the tomb
Of the cold and heathen earth
Of the Gods that await me
I raise a glass in your name
For when the sun rise again
To our deaths like condemned men
This is the twilight of the ages
And no man shall stand
I sing a song of the tomb
Of the cold and heathen earth
With virgin voice to poisoned womb
I call to the shadowed kind
To men of myth, etched in stone
Whose songs are heard no more
The women of the barren lands
This is your time
From the east to the west
All that waits for me is the grave
I have been where my brothers lay fallen
And my kind are as slaves
I sing a song of the tomb
Of the cold and heathen earth
Of the Gods that await me
I raise a glass in your name
To our deaths like condemned men
And no man shall stand
Of the cold and heathen earth
With virgin voice to poisoned womb
I call to the shadowed kind
To men of myth, etched in stone
Whose songs are heard no more
The women of the barren lands
This is your time
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We commemorate our ancestors. Their triumphs and glories. A culture that once thrived and now is dead. This (Irish) culture can only be seen in the grains of dust of cremated remains barely visible within the tombs around Ireland. These tombs have perservered through the ages that followed their Golden Age.