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A redeemer of people is a walker with people.

Bantu proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
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Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book II.

Of Walking the Streets by Day.

Thus far the Muse has trac'd in useful lays
The proper implements for wintry ways;
Has taught the walker, with judicious eyes,
To read the various warnings of the skies.
Now venture, Muse, from home to range the town,
And for the public safety risk thy own.
For ease and for dispatch, the morning's best;
No tides of passengers the street molest.
You'll see a draggled damsel, here and there,
From Billingsgate her fishy traffic bear;
On doors the sallow milk-maid chalks her gains;
Ah! how unlike the milk-maid of the plains!
Before proud gates attending asses bray,
Or arrogate with solemn pace the way;
These grave physicians with their milky cheer,
The love-sick maid and dwindling beau repair;
Here rows of drummers stand in martial file,
And with their vellum thunder shake the pile,
To greet the new-made bride. Are sounds like these
The proper prelude to a state of peace?
Now industry awakes her busy sons,
Full charg'd with news the breathless hawker runs:
Shops open, coaches roll, carts shake the ground,
And all the streets with passing cries resound.
If cloth'd in black, you tread the busy town
Or if distinguish'd by the rev'rend gown,
Three trades avoid; oft in the mingling press,
The barber's apron soils the sable dress;
Shun the perfumer's touch with cautious eye,
Nor let the baker's step advance too nigh;
Ye walkers too that youthful colours wear,
Three sullying trades avoid with equal care;
The little chimney-sweeper skulks along,
And marks with sooty stains the heedless throng;
When small-coal murmurs in the hoarser throat,
From smutty dangers guard thy threaten'd coat:
The dust-man's cart offends thy clothes and eyes,
When through the street a cloud of ashes flies;
But whether black or lighter dyes are worn,
The chandler's basket, on his shoulder borne,
With tallow spots thy coat; resign the way,
To shun the surly butcher's greasy tray,
Butcher's, whose hands are dy'd with blood's foul stain,
And always foremost in the hangman's train.
Let due civilities be strictly paid.
The wall surrender to the hooded maid;
Nor let thy sturdy elbow's hasty rage
Jostle the feeble steps of trembling age;

[...] Read more

poem by John Gay
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Cloud Walker

In above realms where light emits
Comfort abounds all over
The cloud walker tries to send
All the light to subjects below

Beyond, two lovers swathes in the light
Surging with love each breath
The walker of the clouds gladly glows
And bathes the two with loving light

Unfortunately the superior light that graces
The sweetheart two whom which illuminate
Seems to have a fluctuation within its power
The cloud walker falters, and lowers

Loves most powerful gracious light
Loses some of its glow, downward plight
The female of the couple loses sight
Of the cloud walkers ever powerful light

Sadness creeps in, so horrible the confusion
The cloud walker steps his foot on fading
The couple now weeps as it knows the fate
The end of the cloud walker is close

Feeling the light dissipate before their eyes
The woman holds her lover and horribly cries
Her hopes and dreams were left and denied
Her tears leave her heart separate and untied

Crushing beneath the cloud walkers flicker
The couple lays defeated on the ground
The world has beaten the amazing light
The cloud walker is dead, it is now night

poem by Russell Sivey
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Lob

At hawthorn-time in Wiltshire travelling
In search of something chance would never bring,
An old man's face, by life and weather cut
And coloured, - rough, brown, sweet as any nut,
A land face, sea-blue-eyed, - hung in my mind
When I had left him many a mile behind.
All he said was: 'Nobody can't stop 'ee. It's
A footpath, right enough. You see those bits
Of mounds - that's where they opened up the barrows
Sixty years since, while I was scaring sparrows.
They thought as there was something to find there,
But couldn't find it, by digging, anywhere.'

To turn back then and seek him, where was the use?
There were three Manningfords, - Abbots, Bohun, and Bruce:
And whether Alton, not Manningford, it was,
My memory could not decide, because
There was both Alton Barnes and Alton Priors.
All had their churches, graveyards, farms, and byres,
Lurking to one side up the paths and lanes,
Seldom well seen except by aeroplanes;
And when bells rang, or pigs squealed, or cocks crowed,
Then only heard. Ages ago the road
Approached. The people stood and looked and turned.
Nor asked it to come nearer, nor yet learned
To move out there and dwell in all men's dust.
And yet withal they shot the weathercock, just
Because 'twas he crowed out of tune, they said;
So now the copper weathercock is dead.
If they had reaped their dandelions and sold
Them fairly, they could have afforded gold.

Many years passed, and I went back again
Among those villages, and looked for men
Who might have known my ancient. He himself
Had long been dead or laid upon the shelf,
I thought. One man I asked about him roared
At my description: ' 'Tis old Bottlesford
He means, Bill.' But another said: 'Of course,
It was Jack Button up at the White Horse.
He's dead, sir, these three years.' This lasted till
A girl proposed Walker of Walker's Hill,
'Old Adam Walker. Adam's Point you'll see
Marked on the maps.'
'That was her roguery.'
The next man said. He was a squire's son
Who loved wild bird and beast, and dog and gun
For killing them. He had loved them from his birth,
One with another, as he loved the earth.
'The man may be like Button, or Walker, or

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Thomas
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A Day's Ride

Bold are the mounted robbers who on stolen horses ride
And bold the mounted troopers who patrol the Sydney side;
But few of them, though flash they be, can ride, and few can fight
As Walker did, for life and death, with Ward the other night.

It seems the troopers heard that Ward, well known as Thunderbolt,
An outlawed thief, was down near Blanche to try a fresh-roped colt.
(Not far from Armidale, that spot for brilliants so renowned -
Although the talked-of diamonds now are seldom found.)

Said Alick Walker as he clapped his saddle on his steed,
'If I catch sight of Ward today I'll try his horse's speed;
Up hill or down, 'tis all the same, I know my nag can stay'
They got his arms, and galloped off, all ready for the fray.

Soon as he got near Thunderbolt, the first salute he got
From that retreating party was a random pistol-shot ;
The robber fled, the trooper went in chase, his spirits rose -
When Ward advised him to keep off, he answered, 'Bosh, here goes!'

As through the scrubby brush they fled, and timber-tangled brake,
Both held their horses well in hand, nor made the least mistake;
Easing his horse with judgement then, the lightweight trooper raced-
Good jockey as the robber was, he found himself outpaced.

Mile after mile, rough ground and smooth, up hill and down the vale,
Steep rocky tracks they galloped o'er - Wards horse began to fail.
Scant time he had for firing, for whenever he looked back
Onward his adversary pressed, fast nearing on his track.

On to a creek pursuer and pursued still headed straight:
One hastening to avenge the law, his foe to meet his fate.
Ward, almost hopeless of escape, devised a desperate scheme -
Dismounting from his horse he swam the wide and rapid stream.

Cried Walker, 'May my mother's son for ever be accursed
If now I fail to take him, but I'll stop his gallop first.'
His pistol flashed, the stockhorse fell; cut off from all retreat
At bay the reckless outlaw stood, defiant in defeat.

'I'll not surrender,' was his cry, 'before I do, I'll die!'
'All right,' his brave opponent said, 'now for it, you or I!'
A moment's pause - a parley now - the trooper made a push
To grapple at close quarters with the ranger of the bush.

A shot - a blow - a struggle wild - the outlaw with a shriek
Relaxed his hold, and sank beneath the waters of the creek.
'Twas thus the dreaded robber's evil spirit passed away,
Vanquished by brave young Walker, now the hero of the day.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Oceania
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The Queen of Jhansi

1st Stanza

The throne was shaken and tensions rose among the Raajvanshs, the royal heirs,
In aged India, new ideas were taking hold,
The people of all India lamented their lost freedom,
And decided to cast off British rule,
Old swords glittered anew as the freedom movement of 1857 started.
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders
So was the Queen of Jhansi.

2nd Stanza

She was as dear to the Nana (Nana Ghunghupant) of Kanpur as his real sister,
Laxmibai was her name, her parents only daughter
She'd been with Nana since her schoolgirl days
The spear, knife, sword, and axe were her constant companions.
She knew by heart the tales of valor of Shivaji
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders
So was the Queen of Jhansi.

3rd Stanza

None were sure, was she Laxmi or Durga devi or Devi durga reincarnate?
The people of Marathward were awed by her (expertise) skill with the sword,
They learned from her how to fight, the strategy of war,
To attack and humiliate the enemy were her favorite sports.
Her love for Maharashatra-kul-Devi was equaled only by her love for Bhavani.
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders,
8) So was the Queen of Jhansi.

4th Stanza

Laxmibai was married in Jhansi, with great jubilation
Entering the joyous city as Queen,
Grand celebrations were held in the palace in Jhansi, in honor of her coming.
Just as when Chitra met Arjun or Shiv had found his beloved Bhavani.
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders,
So was the Queen of Jhansi.

5th Stanza

Her presence was a blessing at the palace of Jhansi and candles of celebration burned long
But as days passed the dark clouds of misfortune overshadowed the royal palace.
She put aside her bangles and prepared for battle
For fate was unkind and made her a widow

[...] Read more

poem by Subhadra Kumari Chauhan
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The Ancient Banner

In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,
The bosom of his Father, and assumed
A servant's form, though he had reigned a king,
In realms of glory, ere the worlds were made,
Or the creating words, 'Let there be light'
In heaven were uttered. But though veiled in flesh,
His Deity and his Omnipotence,
Were manifest in miracles. Disease
Fled at his bidding, and the buried dead
Rose from the sepulchre, reanimate,
At his command, or, on the passing bier
Sat upright, when he touched it. But he came,
Not for this only, but to introduce
A glorious dispensation, in the place
Of types and shadows of the Jewish code.
Upon the mount, and round Jerusalem,
He taught a purer, and a holier law,—
His everlasting Gospel, which is yet
To fill the earth with gladness; for all climes
Shall feel its influence, and shall own its power.
He came to suffer, as a sacrifice
Acceptable to God. The sins of all
Were laid upon Him, when in agony
He bowed upon the cross. The temple's veil
Was rent asunder, and the mighty rocks,
Trembled, as the incarnate Deity,
By his atoning blood, opened that door,
Through which the soul, can have communion with
Its great Creator; and when purified,
From all defilements, find acceptance too,
Where it can finally partake of all
The joys of His salvation.
But the pure Church he planted,—the pure Church
Which his apostles watered,—and for which,
The blood of countless martyrs freely flowed,
In Roman Amphitheatres,—on racks,—
And in the dungeon's gloom,—this blessed Church,
Which grew in suffering, when it overspread
Surrounding nations, lost its purity.
Its truth was hidden, and its light obscured
By gross corruption, and idolatry.
As things of worship, it had images,
And even painted canvas was adored.
It had a head and bishop, but this head
Was not the Saviour, but the Pope of Rome.
Religion was a traffic. Men defiled,
Professed to pardon sin, and even sell,
The joys of heaven for money,—and to raise
Souls out of darkness to eternal light,
For paltry silver lavished upon them.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Americas
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Christ The Messiah

Words: michael w. smith, deborah d. smith, and elizabeth l. jones
Music: michael w. smith
Christ the messiah
Savior
Christ the messiah
Jesus
Emmanuel emmanuel
Emmanuel emmanuel
Our God is with us now
Christ the messiah
God is with us
Savior
Our redeemer comes
Christ the messiah
Angels sing it
Jesus
Our redeemer comes
Emmanuel emmanuel
Emmanuel emmanuel
Emmanuel
And the glory of the lord rises now upon you
And the glory of the lord rises now upon you
And the glory of the lord rises now upon you
Christ the messiah
God is with us
Savior
Our redeemer comes
Christ the messiah
Angels sing it
Jesus
Our redeemer comes
Emmanuel emmanuel
(emmanuel our God is with us)
Emmanuel emmanuel
Our God is with us now

song performed by Michael W. Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Glow Girl

Separates and lingerie, seven pairs of shoes,
Lots of woolworths makeup, a pair of black watch trews,
Your out-of-tune piano, sentimental photographs,
A million little memories, a million little laughs.
The wing of the airplane has just caught on fire,
I say without reservation we aint getting no higher.
All you wanted from me, all I had to give,
Nothing matters youll see, when in paradise you live,
The plane is diving faster, were getting near the ground,
Nobody is screaming, no one makes a sound.
Its a girl, mrs. walker, its a girl,
Its a girl, mrs. walker, its a girl,
Its a girl, mrs. walker, its a girl,
Its a girl, mrs. walker, its a girl.

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Be kind and courteous to the husband

Who / which is
supporting the elderly woman?

Is it the walker or the husband?

The walker never fails,

The husband sometimes forgets;

The walker never protests,

The husband sometimes pretests

and raises his voice;

You can be rude to the walker,

But be kind and courteous to the husband.

poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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The Light And Dark Have Waned

seven people of light;
a walker of dark;
collect seven signs, are given

split thy light, dark thy rule
whom have dread, yet seven undismayed,
dare face his power

thy dark avows is terror,
to move from, to another
dark is terror still
their light and dark are no more,
just light no walker.

as having walker being passed
from servant of dark
to ruler of light.
the world now be it in peace
with no war and intervening d.ark

poem by Pugegee Phoenix
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Harpua

Om-pa-pa oom-pa-pa oom-pa-pa oom-pa-paaaaa
Fat sweaty bulldog
Stood in the sun
Stone village swamp man
Slow motion run
Tender poke police walker
Precious birthday fudge
Swamp night bull nail
Walker done done
Hot sweaty bulldog stood in the sunthen -
stone village swamp man (is doing a)
slow motion runhere comes the policeman:
tender poke police walkerwhom the dog and the man see as:
precious birthday fudgethen -
swamp night (the man)
bull nail (the dog - the bulldog's claw)
kill the policeman:
walker done done
Me and Harpua
We couldn't care few-a
It happens all the time
We beat Okimo
(Repeat Chorus)
Hot liquor stone jack
Bitter toothless flesh
Shabby pimple chin-slime
Evil milky rash
Me and Harpua
Spastic dead-eyed hound
Oozing dreadlock skullcap
We're coming to your town
We'll help you party down
(Chorus 2x)
Spoken by Trey [with asides by Fishman]:
Once upon a time Far far away from here
There, in a small town...
a small town...
small town...
small...
And on the outskirts of this town
there lived a mean, nasty, furry, ugly hound named Harpua.
Harpua roamed the outskirts of the town every day and he'd walk around looking for a little action.
So of course this day was no different from any other day and here we start the story and we see Harpua walking around on the outskirts of town near the forest kind of at the edge of the forest and he's walking in toward town...
Harpua walked toward the town...
innocently...
And meanwhile in the town...
in a whole different part of the town
there lived a young boy all alone in a suburban neighborhood
and every day he'd sit in his room
and sit on his little couch [AND SMOKE POT!]...

[...] Read more

song performed by Phish
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A Campfire Song

[ natalie merchant ]
[ other voice: michael stipe ]
A lie to say, o my mountain has coal veins and beds to dig.
500 men with axes and they all dig for me.
A lie to say, o my river where many fish do swim,
Half of the catch is mine when you haul your nets in.
Never will he believe that his greed is a blinding ray.
No devil or redeemer will cheat him.
Hell take his gold to where hes lying cold.
A lie to say, o my mine gave a diamond as big as a fist.
But with every gem in his pocket, the jewels he has missed.
A lie to say, o my garden is growing taller by the day.
He only eats the best and tosses the rest away.
Never will he be believe that his greed is a blinding ray.
No devil or redeemer can cheat him.
Hell take his gold to where hes lying cold.
Six deep in the grave.
Something is out of reach
Something he wanted
Something is out of reach
Hes being taunted
Something is out of reach
That he can beg or steal nor can he buy
His oldest pain
And fear in life
Therell not be time
His oldest pain
And fear in life
Therell not be time
A lie to say o my forest has trees that block the sun
And when I cut them down I dont answer to anyone.
No, no, never will he believe that his greed is a blinding ray
No devil or redeemer can cheat him.
Hell take his gold where hes lying cold.

song performed by 10000 Maniacs
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Live For Your Pain

Unchain your obscenity
Desirable enemy
Await my enlightening
Allow what your fate can bring
Now you re caught inside my cage
You are the object of my rage
Sin, I wash you clean again
I'm your redeemer
Refrn:
Cause I I live for your pain
I live for your pain
I'm dying
My victim you are meant to be
No, you cannot hide nor flee
You know what I'm looking for
Pleasure your torture, I will endure
Now you are rust inside my cage
You are the object of my rage
Sin, I wash you clean again
I'm your redeemer
Cause I I live for your pain
I live for your pain
I'm dying
I'll burn in your flame
I live for your pain
I'm dying
I'm dying
Now you are rust inside my cage
You - the object of my rage
Blood I wash you clean again
I'm your redeemer
Be my deliver
Refrn

song performed by Helloween
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An Arsenal of Spiritual Dynamite

i come to bow my soul, kneel upon your mighty name, the
light that illuminates my spirit, beyond other power on earth
and in the heaven who brings me to the eternal Father, my
immortal Adonai, the one who is and pre-existed in name,
exalted amongst angels and saints in heaven and in earth

you are my Redeemer; please redeem me, for you are the
fullness of thy body; come bow down my soul, kneel upon
your great altar of mercy. live and leads my sole spirit to
your kingdom, where everything comes to exist and end to
your salvation of peace amongst earthly moulds, oh! my
immortal soul, rejoice thy eternal dimension of saints and
angels

you are my Redeemer; please redeem me, for you are
fullness of the eternal grace, You are my mind, bring me
forth to the fortress, of your heavenly kingdom, my
completeness belongs only to you take me Lord, where you
reign forever, for you are my repose, and give me the perfect
gift that cannot be grasped by any living being in this time

give me Lord, the wisdom to understand, the authority when
i ask; to heal and cleanse my body, through Jesus Christ, the
name above every name and redeemer of my eternal light soul
and spirit, the begotten son of the Father, who is the first born
of the Pleroma of grace

as i invoke, in Jesus name, grant thy humble human heart
to see and anchor my ears in your precious blood, let my faith
and hope lives in your everlasting life, and my spirit be in your
arm; place me, in your beloved elect and thy blessed greatness
of your love, may the psychic God, of the universe, grant me the
wonderful mystery of your heavenly kingdom

may the faith of your humble servant to be in you in all your
greatness and power, and may your glory, praise and wisdom
lives in our souls and spirit forever and ever, Amen

poem by Antonio Liao
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Fishermen—Not Of Galilee

THEY have toiled all the night, the long weary night,
They have toiled all the night, Lord, and taken nothing:--
The heavens are as brass, and all flesh seems as grass,
Death strikes with horror and life with loathing.

Walk'st Thou by the waters, the dark silent waters,
The fathomless waters that no line can plumb?
Art Thou Redeemer, or a mere schemer--
Preaching a kingdom that cannot come?

Not a word say'st Thou: no wrath betray'st Thou:
Scarcely delay'st Thou their terrors to lull;
On the shore standing, mutely commanding,
'Let down your nets!'--And they draws them up,--full!
* * * * *

Jesus, Redeemer,--only Redeemer!
I, a poor dreamer, lay hold upon Thee:
Thy will pursuing, though no end viewing,
But simply doing as Thou biddest me.

Though Thee I see not,--either light be not,
Or Thou wilt free not the scales from mine eyes,
I ne'er gainsay Thee, but only obey Thee;
Obedience is better than sacrifice.

Though on my prison gleams no open vision,
Walking Elysian by Galilee's tide,
Unseen, I feel Thee, and death will reveal Thee:
I shall wake in Thy likeness, satisfied.

poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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The Children Of The Lord's Supper. (From The Swedish Of Bishop Tegner)

Pentecost, day of rejoicing, had come. The church of the village
Gleaming stood in the morning's sheen. On the spire of the bell
Decked with a brazen cock, the friendly flames of the Spring-sun
Glanced like the tongues of fire, beheld by Apostles aforetime.
Clear was the heaven and blue, and May, with her cap crowned with roses,
Stood in her holiday dress in the fields, and the wind and the brooklet
Murmured gladness and peace, God's-peace! with lips rosy-tinted
Whispered the race of the flowers, and merry on balancing branches
Birds were singing their carol, a jubilant hymn to the Highest.
Swept and clean was the churchyard. Adorned like a leaf-woven arbor
Stood its old-fashioned gate; and within upon each cross of iron
Hung was a fragrant garland, new twined by the hands of
affection.
Even the dial, that stood on a mound among the departed,
(There full a hundred years had it stood,) was embellished with blossoms
Like to the patriarch hoary, the sage of his kith and the hamlet,
Who on his birthday is crowned by children and children's children,
So stood the ancient prophet, and mute with his pencil of iron
Marked on the tablet of stone, and measured the time and its changes,
While all around at his feet, an eternity slumbered in quiet.
Also the church within was adorned, for this was the season
When the young, their parents' hope, and the loved-ones of heaven,
Should at the foot of the altar renew the vows of their
baptism.
Therefore each nook and corner was swept and cleaned, and the dust was
Blown from the walls and ceiling, and from the oil-painted benches.
There stood the church like a garden; the Feast of the Leafy Pavilions
Saw we in living presentment. From noble arms on the church wall
Grew forth a cluster of leaves, and the preacher's pulpit of oak-wood
Budded once more anew, as aforetime the rod before Aaron.
Wreathed thereon was the Bible with leaves, and the dove, washed with silver
Under its canopy fastened, had on it a necklace of wind-flowers.
But in front of the choir, round the altar-piece painted by
Horberg,
Crept a garland gigantic; and bright-curling tresses of
angels
Peeped, like the sun from a cloud, from out of the shadowy leaf-work.
Likewise the lustre of brass, new-polished, blinked from the ceiling,
And for lights there were lilies of Pentecost set in the sockets.

Loud rang the bells already; the thronging crowd was
assembled
Far from valleys and hills, to list to the holy preaching.
Hark! then roll forth at once the mighty tones of the organ,
Hover like voices from God, aloft like invisible spirits.
Like as Elias in heaven, when he cast from off him his
mantle,
So cast off the soul its garments of earth; and with one voice
Chimed in the congregation, and sang an anthem immortal
Of the sublime Wallin, of David's harp in the North-land

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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Traveller handwarm

the lamb in the blood a traveller moonlit
the lamb in the blood a traveller sunlit
the lamb in the womb the sky spelled cloud

the walker in the mud a traveller lightless
the walker in the mud a traveller darkless
the walker in the lamb the sky spelled step

a silent road in the traveller's book
a silent road the traveller took
a silent road after a storm
a traveller path traveller handwarm

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Sky Walker Walks Among Stars

the mystery of the sky walker
who walks among stars
yet illuminates earth wide spaces

sky walker warms hands in stars
sky walker delight blesses moon beams
each day blesses pristine earth moments

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Tightrope

Cant find yourself
If youre lost in a crowd
Cant hear advice
If youre screaming out loud
For someone please listen to me
Cant figure out
What you dont understand
Cant realize
What you dont comprehend
But its always
Been plain to see
But if you run
Too far away
Oh if you run
Dont be afraid
Its just a tightrope
Walker on fire
Razorblade wire
Its a high hope
That you acquire
Its a tightrope
Razorblade wire
Cant say hello
If youre never around
Cant pace yourself
If you never slow down
cause your always
Running full speed
Cant take too much
If you dont let them in
Cant feel the touch
Of a life within
If youre always
Fulfilling the need
But if you run
Too far away
Oh if you run
Dont be afraid
Its just a tightrope
Walker on fire
Its a tightrope
Razorblade wire
Its a high hope
That you acquire
Its a tightrope
Of razorblade wire
Oh if you run
Too far away
Oh if you run
Dont be afraid

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song performed by Oleander
Added by Lucian Velea
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Grendel

(derek dick)
I. heorots plea and grendels awakening
Midnight suns bid moors farewell, retreats from charging dusk
Mountain echo, curfews bell, signal ending tasks
They place their faith in oaken doors, cower in candlelight
The panic seeps through bloodstained floors as grendel stalks the night
Earth rim walker seeks his meals
Prepare the funeral pyres
The shapers songs no longer heal the fear
Within their eyes, [their eyes]
Wooden figures, pagan gods, stare blindly cross the sea
Appeal for help from ocean fogs, for saviour born of dreams
They know their lives are forfeit now, priestly head they bow in shame
They cannot face the trembling crowd that flinch in grendels name
Earth rim walker seeks his meals
Prepare the funeral pyres
The shapers songs no longer heal the fear
Within their eyes, [their eyes]
As grendel leaves his mossy home beneath the stagnant mere
Along the forest path he roams to hrothgars hall so clear
He knows that victory is secured, his charm will testify
His claws will drip with mortal blood as moonbeams haunt the sky
As grendel leaves his mossy home beneath the stagnant mere
Along the forest path he roams to hrothgars hall so clear
He knows that victory is secured, his charm will testify
His claws will drip with mortal blood, as moonbeams haunt the sky
Earth rim walker seeks his meals
Prepare the funeral pyres
The shapers songs no longer heal the fear
Within their eyes, [their eyes]
-=o=-=o=-
Ii. grendels journey
Silken membranes span his path, fingerprints in dew
Denizens of twilight lands humbly beg him through
Mother natures bastard child shunned by leaf and stream
An alien in an alien land seeks solace within dreams
The shapers lies his poisoned tongue malign with mocking harp
Beguiling queen her innocence offends his icy heart
-=o=-=o=-
Iii. lurker at the threshold
Hounds freeze in silence bewitched by the reptile spell
Sulphurous essence pervades round the grassy dell
Heorot awaits him like lamb to the butchers knife
Stellular heavens ignore even childrens cries
Screams are his music, lightning his guide
Raping the darkness, d-d-death by his side
Chants rise in terror, free round the oaken beams
Flickering firelight portraying the grisly scene
Warriors advance, prepare for the nightmare foe
Futile their sacrifice as even their hearts must know

[...] Read more

song performed by Marillion
Added by Lucian Velea
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