In Cruel Fire

Song In Cruel Fire
Artist Rome
Album Die Æsthetik der Herrschaftsfreiheit

Lyrics

What cruel fire, what land forlorn
Will raise its plaint in time?
What black spring blooms
In your eyes?
Whose blood will taint
This land of mine?
And he who makes bread
Ought to eat
And he who fights ought to rest
And though it is truth we seek
It just won't do to serve
With the best
Now make your pact with time
And the worlds you are stealing
For you will only find me
In what I'm leaving
And we'll all be drowned
Just wait and see
In the hollow sound
Of marching feet
And the blood bleeds black
The blood runs red
You made all t hat is yours
But they are here to offend
Your housings
Your silent tents
And to teach all eyes to close
But you sold your spades
On the mournful autumn train
A lifetime ago
And you give the fruit
Of your flight
For a loaf of light
For you don't know
How to make your pact with time
And the worlds you are stealing
For you will only find me
In what I'm leaving
And we'll all be drowned
Just wait and see
In the hollow sound
Of marching feet
And we'll all be drowned
Just wait and see
In the hollow sound
Of marching feet