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Harbinger Lyrics
Sleep still and silent
Dream in stained glass scenes of violence
Claim the song sung by the sirens
Breath shallow and quietly
Stand before the corpse of the crow
Take up the blade that struck the final blow
Tear off the wings to refuse its ascension
There will be no reproach. There will be no redemption
For the wicked and corrupt at the end of its life
Only justice from the absolute with a flick of a knife
Back to where it all began
Tracing footprints to the shore
They lead into the ocean
Where the horror waits no more
In its place waits utter devotion
The current casting backward tells of lifetime past
The empty faces that once seemed listless have all now been recast
But when lost in distant thoughts, a sleeping evil starts to stir
Distracted by warm memories with vigilance relaxed
It seemed unlikely to occur
Tear off the wings to refuse its ascension
There will be no reproach. There will be no redemption
A breach in the bow would allow the craft to sink again
Reaching down to tear the wings from the crow conquered in complete
Experience a transformation both of body and of mind
Rearrange the constellations and define the undefined
The returned speaks in tongues once bewildering
But in its hands sit the wings and the dagger that say everything
Without a word it says everything
Tore off the wings to refuse its ascension
There will be no second coming
No forces for succumbing to
Just a peaceful place to final rest a head
The crow is dead
Go back to sleep
The sun is finally setting
And you can rest you weary head for now.
Dream in stained glass scenes of violence
Claim the song sung by the sirens
Breath shallow and quietly
Stand before the corpse of the crow
Take up the blade that struck the final blow
Tear off the wings to refuse its ascension
There will be no reproach. There will be no redemption
For the wicked and corrupt at the end of its life
Only justice from the absolute with a flick of a knife
Back to where it all began
Tracing footprints to the shore
They lead into the ocean
Where the horror waits no more
In its place waits utter devotion
The current casting backward tells of lifetime past
The empty faces that once seemed listless have all now been recast
But when lost in distant thoughts, a sleeping evil starts to stir
Distracted by warm memories with vigilance relaxed
It seemed unlikely to occur
Tear off the wings to refuse its ascension
There will be no reproach. There will be no redemption
A breach in the bow would allow the craft to sink again
Reaching down to tear the wings from the crow conquered in complete
Experience a transformation both of body and of mind
Rearrange the constellations and define the undefined
The returned speaks in tongues once bewildering
But in its hands sit the wings and the dagger that say everything
Without a word it says everything
Tore off the wings to refuse its ascension
There will be no second coming
No forces for succumbing to
Just a peaceful place to final rest a head
The crow is dead
Go back to sleep
The sun is finally setting
And you can rest you weary head for now.
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To me, this song has two meanings:
First, the fear of losing relevancy after garnering enough attention to stand out among the masses and feel true in your artistry. A dream of light spilling through stained glass, depicting a violent struggle that's bathed in beautiful colors as you claim your ambitions. You work yourself tirelessly to present your artwork worthy of their recognition, only to slowly realize the countless scores that came before you. The siren's call brought them to the shore from the sea of the listless aggregates as it does the same to you. Where you were convinced that grass is greener on dry earth, but the sands are soaked in blood and littered with corpses of crows who had transformed themselves briefly, able to take flight, but now lay lifeless, having fallen in line with the wicked and corrupt, with their wings having been torn from them.
Second, the comfort of acceptance. A return to your original form that comes at the end of all our lives. To accept your return to the sea as a new generation has been recast, climbing onto the sands now to replace the old generation's roles. With fond memories, and your guard dropped, you trace your path backwards, receding into the ocean as it dawns on you. Now YOU are the crow, fallen to the influence of a world that no longer needs you. Ideals of reproach or redemption are meaningless in the everlasting. The new generation takes up the blade and strikes the final blow. The eternal return cycles endlessly as the ones who strike you down, shall one day face the same fate. In that momentary revelation, as you are slowly dragged back into the ocean by the calming push and pull of the waves, the sun setting is a comforting view as you know you can now go back to sleep, and rest your weary head.
For now.