The Baying Of The Hounds (исполнитель: Opeth)
I hear the baying of the hounds In the distance, I hear them devouring Pest ridden jackals of the earth Diabolical beasts and roaming the forests In wait and constant protectors Calling you to sit by his side Your self loathing image in his flesh revelation upon which you linger His words are flies Swarming towards the [bad word] insects Feasting on buried dreams And spreading decay upon your skin His eyes spew forth a darkness That cut through and paralyze Casts light upon your secrets Forced to confront your enemies His mouth is a vortex Sucking you into it's pandemonium Fools you with a helping hand of ashes Reached out in false dismay His body is a country The cities lay dead and beyond despair Friends turned enemies unable [bad word] clean In a rising fog of reeking death Everything you believed is a lie Everyone you loved is a death burden So you [bad word] in him And you are receptive to stark wishes No longer [bad word] to declare your stand You would inflict no harm to others They are unaware of you And in a loop of futile events You are everything, they are nothing Drown in the deep mire With past desires Beneath the mire Drown desire now with you Lined up verses on dead skin "The tainted lips of the stranger Resting upon hers" And I embrace bereavement Everything beloved is shattered anyway I would devote myself to anyone I would accept any flaws I am too weak to resist Tension vibrating with horror Finding the outcast in my eyes Pushing nerves on a puppet Endless poison in my veins Clean intent now tainted with death And so, cold touch now inhumane Every waking hour Awaiting a reverie to unfold And now they are calling me Louder by the minute The baying of the hounds Calling me back to my home