Behind Your Breath - Wovenhand

Up, up and behind your breath

Up, up, up

Up, up and behind

He up, up and behind your breath

His face takes its place behind what’s left

You wait for it but It will not come

These things are hidden in the rest of the son

Flatter yourself not

All your noise come to naught

Endless ending, endless collection of plagues

Brought down on the median ground

Up, up and behind your breath

Up, up, up

Scorch the earth, scorch the earth

Ruined lives entire

Of all the architects grand this ones the liar

But my king, my king shows his hands

Up, up and behind your breath

Up, up, up

Up, up and behind your breath

Up, up, up

A golden rod to measure the city

The city, it’s gates, its walls

Every breath here a call to prayer

And we as, we as children there