They bear no names
The black hands are dancing
They search for him
All for the king
The king
Staring at open palms, hear the redrum pound
Once upon the battlefield, false vanity has won
Down in the darkness, echoes of dead cries
There's beauty in pain, and pain is their light
They bear no names
The black hands are dancing
They call for him
Here lies the king
The king
Mirrored upon pearl-white eyes
A black halo
Stare into the depths of nevermore
Does it stare back?
A murder of divas, bleeding as the choir
Beneath the shadows, the garden lies withered
When the black hands dance, encircled beneath the sun
Only the dead will hear, screams of a lost zion
Such passion lay unfinished, lost to the world regrets
Precious thoughts unspoken and silent are the trumpets
No more bard songs, only a crying child
A ghastly crowd faceless, watching this denial
Resounding within the mind, a serenade to still hearts
As ice on the dark stares, how deep do they scar?
Under the rage of wings, cradled by coldness
Into the dark shadows and winter quintessence
Mirrored upon pearl-white eyes
A black halo
Stare into the depths of nevermore
Does it stare back?
Only the dead will hear the sound of such music
Life goes on if there is pain
They bear no names
The black hands are dancing
They sing for him
Long live the king
Still the dance goes on, final breaths linger
In stillness he's loved, caressed by their fingers
Joining the cries of time, planted in pain
As the dead don't rest, within this garden
Mirrored under pearl-white eyes
A black halo
Stare into the depths of nevermore
Does it stare back?
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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