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Into the Painted Grey Lyrics
The jagged lines in these wooden hands
speak of a silent aeon below the depths
of an austere ebon tide
for centuries kingdoms have risen
upon the ancient hands of a god
once severed for the world's birth
a sacrifice to the storms of life
now darkness is thine sanctum
Temples of magma steam across the grey
The arc that transcends my iconic pride
For I am not an ageless god, no, I am imprisoned by time
These ancient palms shall once again be mine
Hands...hands that lift the oceans
to vertical depths above the stars
For when I die, the universe will die with me
and all will be lost forever gone
Where am I?
How long shall I suffer here?
Forlorn in the cold neolithic embrace
Forsaken deep in the sullen tide
How long shall I suffer here?
Perched on the cliffside gazing out into the brine
My archaic beard pours downward and joins the feral sea
I am the heritage; the quintessence of myth and legend
The archetype of Pagan might and divinity
Hands...hands that lift the oceans
to vertical depths beyond the stars
I gather a celestial blanket around these tired bones
and finally slumber in the clouds of ice
These are my hands...
...so it is done
speak of a silent aeon below the depths
of an austere ebon tide
for centuries kingdoms have risen
upon the ancient hands of a god
once severed for the world's birth
a sacrifice to the storms of life
now darkness is thine sanctum
The arc that transcends my iconic pride
For I am not an ageless god, no, I am imprisoned by time
These ancient palms shall once again be mine
to vertical depths above the stars
For when I die, the universe will die with me
and all will be lost forever gone
How long shall I suffer here?
Forlorn in the cold neolithic embrace
Forsaken deep in the sullen tide
How long shall I suffer here?
My archaic beard pours downward and joins the feral sea
I am the heritage; the quintessence of myth and legend
The archetype of Pagan might and divinity
to vertical depths beyond the stars
I gather a celestial blanket around these tired bones
and finally slumber in the clouds of ice
These are my hands...
...so it is done
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"Perched on the cliffside gazing out into the brine My archaic beard pours downward and joins the feral sea I am the heritage; the quintessence of myth and legend The archetype of Pagan might and divinity"
Wow. While my favorite part of the song, these are the lyrics that throw me off.
The rest of the song seems to hold with Agalloch's pantheist beliefs: the Earth and and Universe as God, man destroying it, all man held in its hands. But this verse has some bearded God reminiscent of Poseidon or some Norse God. Is it meant to be an actual God or a personification of the Earth?
Perhaps it's a reference to a waterfall?
Perhaps it's a reference to a waterfall?
@jeffwegener I am by no means an expert on pagan ideologies or gods however there appears to be a struggle of dare I say desiring to be a god but realizing his limitations as only a man? That’s what take from it anyhow.
@jeffwegener I am by no means an expert on pagan ideologies or gods however there appears to be a struggle of dare I say desiring to be a god but realizing his limitations as only a man? That’s what take from it anyhow.