Wolves In The Throne Room - Cleansing

Yes, to the darkest place that we know
Outside of the rider's domain
To the heart of the wood
To the hidden places beyond the briar thickets

The dance must begin as dusk gathers around

Our skin drum and rattle

Know the tune
Jaw bone driven through
The skull of a great foe
Bested with wooden spear
The tip hardened in fire

Bathe in the clear cold stream
Fresh water from the unsullied endless spring that flows from the
Mountain
We will sing the most ancient song
Spark the fire upon dry tinder

The dance must begin as dusk gathers around

Our skin drum and rattle
Know the tune
Jaw bone driven through
The skull of a great foe
Bested with wooden spear
The tip hardened in fire

Behold the vastness and sorrow of this empty land
A dark and Fell Rider clad in garments of shadow Is the lord of this place
A cruel and wonton king, a priest of a black religion is he

The hoof beat of the rider's steed pound a mournful drumbeat upon the dry cracked earth
To this rhythm the world moves

The sun blasts down upon the earth
Until the soil turns to powder and blows away

Lifeless chaos is the order for the rider has mastered the seasons
Ancient kings Cairn now have been defiled
The gates of strongholds long breached left swinging lifelessly in the fetid wind
The pillars of holy places lie dead
He rides day and night
The relentless hoof beats echoes