The Tides Of November - Night In Gales

The heralds of starfall, they’ve known it for long

The woundwalker’s footprints, all faded and gone

On the shores of nihil, there’s no sand but in our eves

Still we cry

The tides of November, they rise and they fall

Drowning the last of ewers, once and for all

In this blackwatergrave we all shall crawl

This stormchild empire was built of fog and sand

Now it has finally cone to meet it’s watery end

The sands of these scabbed shores, now rubbed into our eyes

Tis fog’s drowning all but our prayers and cries

Still we cry a filthfinger finale for those about to die

One more wave, one more breath

One more wave, one more breath

One more surge, one more death

No god there to calm the seas

But we drown with gratefulness and ease

One more wave, one more surge

The hungry black must feed it’s urge

Abandon your lives to the waves

Now let’s drink up our graves

One more wave, one more breath

The tides of November, the tides of death