Arkhangelsk

Held by winter's chokehold fast Fixed in anxiety's firm grip Frost that burn the arteries Underneath the heavy clouds The lifted sword, the broken shield The hand that drew the final word From the frozen mouth of Arkhangelsk Let them go, let them burn the world to cinders And let their heads hang down Falling through the tungsten skies The burning grounds of Arkhangelsk To the eye of judgement now One will stand in the time of the end Sun to stone, air to fire All to nothing and nothing to nil They gather, drowning in the drone Of the grinding wheels of Arkhangelsk With one word, one movement in the fabric Everything dies The storm that sweeps the world away From the frozen plains of Arkhangelsk Inherit from the morning star What others brought and the land forgot Soaring through van alien belts Through blazing stars, through dying suns Collide not now, but carry us Through the burning air of Arkhangelsk