Skinwalker
de Artificial Language
Mother knows best for the bringer of worlds
A vortex of spells have pulled him in
When does he get the day to decide where his momentum's released
And what kind of beast is conceived?
Rise my sea
Clench fists with air as if it's the throat of your God
They denied us
Swear that you will never let go
Let go
Let go of gods who don't show their face
And now the fountain of life runs dry
And your mill grinds slowly, as it should
Deities, they'll never give us what we want
Now go ahead and pray he's on your side
We've chosen ours
Will you choose our messiah?
We've chosen ours
Will you choose our messiah?
We've chosen ours
Will you choose our messiah?
Tethers are fashioned from silk that divides lessers' distant glow
Tin gods, they descend all the same
They bend; it makes them easy to mold for our gospel's songs
Tethers are fashioned from silk that divides lessers' distant glow
Tethers are fashioned from silk that divides us from our lessers' distant glow
Tin gods, they descend all the same
Tin gods, they descend all the same
Mother knows best for the bringer of worlds
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Mazes
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The Grand Skeptic
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There's No Bottom to This
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Two-Faced Star
Distant Glow
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Unself Portrait
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Observer
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Now We Sleep
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The Back of My Mind
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Endless Naught
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Pulses
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Further from the Surface
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The Wild Haunt
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Trail of Lights
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Keep Yourself Hidden
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Forest Presence
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Cabin Meeting
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Raising Timothy
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Huguenot
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Varek Arrives
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Gunfight
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