Death And The Lament Orbital Descendants Lyrics
Orbital Descendants by Death And The Lament
We mourn the fruits of glory, the ending to the story
Engraving and so blended in orbital descendants
I must quell this divergence, the astral plague's emergence
Of chosen discretion
The essence of the way your movement
Disappears into shade
Would you ease my woe?
Weighed down under spells of sunlight
And wept in the past
I reside in degeneration
I comprise the will and actualize the caper of man
I devise their exposure so nobody knows that they were real
I'm overtaken and mesmerized
By the unknown destination
The arbitration, it leads me there
The pulse subsiding
Complexity so derived
We mourn the fruits of glory, the ending to the story
Engraving and so blended in orbital descendants
I must quell this divergence, the astral plague's emergence
Of chosen discretion
When I enter the stars I align the rift of the shattered sphere
As one we inhabit the light
Wayward to darkened obscurity
I am searching through ripples in time
Sustained inside the fire divine
The crescent in the midst has born my sense of disdain
For untraveled sins
Engraving and so blended in orbital descendants
I must quell this divergence, the astral plague's emergence
Of chosen discretion
The essence of the way your movement
Disappears into shade
Would you ease my woe?
Weighed down under spells of sunlight
And wept in the past
I reside in degeneration
I comprise the will and actualize the caper of man
I devise their exposure so nobody knows that they were real
I'm overtaken and mesmerized
By the unknown destination
The arbitration, it leads me there
The pulse subsiding
Complexity so derived
We mourn the fruits of glory, the ending to the story
Engraving and so blended in orbital descendants
I must quell this divergence, the astral plague's emergence
Of chosen discretion
When I enter the stars I align the rift of the shattered sphere
As one we inhabit the light
Wayward to darkened obscurity
I am searching through ripples in time
Sustained inside the fire divine
The crescent in the midst has born my sense of disdain
For untraveled sins