Shadows from the broken bones of the Master Rotting skin, open sores Still we plead for him, rid us of disaster The dying king we all adore Hand that once would crush, frail and weak and wasted Iron fist now made of bone Void of power and decrepit in its vision Feeling safer in the dark Floating faces of the damned What lies behind the eyes that see nothing at all? To hold enthralled On a sea of broken hope Somehow we sail along now Riding on the waves of dreams we laid to waste Look upon the shores of retribution Drowning pools of our own fear Endless torment in the halls of ever after Crooked orbit of the fall Promised life by the Giver of Salvation Yet this death was served to all Suffer torment in the halls of ever after Endless orbit of the fall Orbit of the fall Orbit of the fall