At The Gates - Primal Breath Lyrics
Look the herons in the greenbilled waterTheir wet-ash wings wear medalions of patienceWe drift on...We have stories as old as the great seasBreak through the chestFlying out the mouthNoisy toungues that once were silencedAll the oceans we contian, coming to lightAll the dark birds rush from the riverLeaving only the stillness of their languageThere are no clocks to measure timeBut the beating of our single heartsYou will know it is winterBy the way your dreams tremble like stonesWhen the wind comes throughThe wind, full of hearts that beat quick and strong