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The Burial Lyrics

An omen and a call to arms

Like fingers they claw at the sky, pylons of a pompous foray. Sentinels to look down upon with vacant eyes
We kindle our willing to strive, to remain separate. A farewell to the spoils of fate, in shallow graves
We dig a hole deep in the earth, dig it deep to hide all our guilt. A trio of sarcophagi - triadic deceit
The quagmire could swallow whole, the black well of our malady, we grasp tight of offered hands, to stem the flow of defeat
We pick the bones cleans of their worth, whisper [sweet] nothings into empty warrens, mock prayers to revel within, who has seen better days?
Zealots practice silent vigils, we turn our attention upon their axis, imitations inured with former glory, we ignore their remorse
Explanation

The metaphorical burial of their god Frith. They pass huge stone obelisks - demarcations of the efrafa, the marking of land, the sign of a changing world. With the coffin buried, the veil is finally lifted. The subjugation of their people by the theocratic rule of their leader, who offered nothing but oppression, and death in the face of the ultimate obstacle - the end of their civilization at the hands of the ambiguous and utterly terrifying Efrafa. The crowd moves en mass towards the ivory towers of the prophet prince.

This song does not appear on the vinyl version due to s***e constraints, but is available on download and the CD version and is a significant part of this record.
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