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Quarry (Hunt)

from Split with Centuries by Homestretch

/

lyrics

If you spend your lifetime leaning on the arms of a ghost, you’ll never learn to stand upright with your own sense of self. “Everlasting arms,” he said, with a smile (and a gift horse you couldn’t help but stare directly in the mouth). In the land of the blind, there are no kings, yet they still clamor for a hollow dynasty. They reach for anything they can to help decipher their intuition, encrypted by the very man from whom they seek their salvation.

I’ve seen the purest sheep among you turn their backs on anything that doesn’t bring instant gratification. Blessed are the meek, because the tyrants need their whipping boy, submissive and pliant, at the bottom of the barrel. In the land of the dead, there’s nothing to perceive, yet they still toil for a sensory distraction. If idle hands do the devil’s work, the holiest of men are the monsters who destroy.

And you will know Them by Their sermons, a strangled nightingale’s song. And you will know Us by Our fruits, bruised and grey, rotted through.

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from Split with Centuries, released July 9, 2011

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