This is a pro-cassette manufactured by National Audio and released by Glossolalia Records. Limited to 100 copies.
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lyrics
The hue that fled our countenance
Palor that takes its place,
We greet him with glass eyes,
Parted lips,
Empty mouths
The old king is dead
The usurper ascendant
Oh few are given to roaming
For days at a time
But his malice compels us
To set our paths awry
The old king is dead
The usurper ascendant
We greet him with glass eyes,
With our tears
Vitrified
Acquiesce to his guiles
His ridicule
And the torment
The old king is dead
The usurper ascendant
Oh am I not but a worm?
Beneath the foot of my master
Am I not just a link? In the chain of my fetters?
Am I not just a grain? In the sea of your coffers?
Won't I bare for you? The yoke of your only burden?
This is not what we are
One another
This is not what I owe
One another
This is not what we owe
To the future
This is not what we owe
To the past
How could it be so?