Shadows from the broken bones of the Master
Rotting skin, open sores
Still we plead for him, rid us of disaster
The dying king we all adore
Hand that once would crush, frail and weak and wasted
Iron fist now made of bone
Void of power and decrepit in its vision
Feeling safer in the dark
Floating faces of the damned
What lies behind the eyes that see nothing at all?
To hold enthralled
On a sea of broken hope
Somehow we sail along now
Riding on the waves of dreams we laid to waste
Look upon the shores of retribution
Drowning pools of our own fear
Endless torment in the halls of ever after
Crooked orbit of the fall
Promised life by the Giver of Salvation
Yet this death was served to all
Suffer torment in the halls of ever after
Endless orbit of the fall
Orbit of the fall
Orbit of the fall