Remember when Legends were mortal men? Heralds of such nascent times; committed to such heinous crimes, imbued by revelation. Paths were paved and all their fingers spun melody to keep the wolves at bay. The serenade of all their fingers lit beacons to illuminate the way. Then the bold shook hands with pride. Irons were worn as wax inscribed. Now all that’s left to point the way are shattered fingers.
Remember when the meek were more than men? Marvels of complacent times; liaisons to such ancient chimes, imbued by preservation. Paths reclaimed and all their fingers tickled beasts who far too dormant lay. Minds on their blades for all their fingers could suddenly be called on to slay. Then the bold shook hands with pride. Irons were worn as wax inscribed. Now all that’s left to point the way are shattered fingers.
This is when paths decimate. Will all our fingers stay uncrossed long enough to brace the humble trace of all our fingers grasping forms forbearance laid to waste? And will the bold shake hands with pride? Iron adorn as wax inscribed and will all that’s left to point the way be shattered fingers?
credits
from Two's A Crowd,
released March 21, 2009
Aaron: Bass & Vocals, Steve: Drums, Spoke: Vocals
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