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Correct Painters Of The Tempest (Part II): Triptych Lux Lyrics
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Ne Obliviscaris
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Correct Painters Of The Tempest (Part II): Triptych Lux
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{Movement 1: Creator} [Verse 1: Xenoyr] Come forth dark herald Bringer of light Born by the burning swans and his plague breath Creator of the dream coil, a halo aloft As hands entwine Painters of the tempest, with their red hands The world their canvas Through the mist of the stormglass [Violin Solo: Tim Charles] [Pre-Chorus 1: Xenoyr] And Bruegel dreamt the angels above As Bosch danced in earthly delight [Chorus 1: Tim] Angels fall Into the canvas Reaching for the light Heaven is empty And all the beauty is here [Verse 2: Xenoyr] Upon this bone palette The sway of nine-tails Layered lashings of euphoria and chaos Triptychs unfold like wings As the arms of our fathers bear the weight of what they've done Anti-matter-martyrs [Bridge: Tim] Warmth of life Where they sing of fire Children's eyes, for they all shine As tears rise, oceans of flame billow When all dreams lose hope [Pre-Chorus 2: Xenoyr] And Bruegel wept for the fading sun Where have all the angels gone? [Chorus 2: Tim, Xenoyr] Angels fall Into the canvas Reaching for the light Heaven is empty As hell below And hell below Painted by ghosts [Outro] Lords of lifeless eyes In this garden of wilted flowers Vultures spake the mother tongue [Guitar Solo: Benjamin Baret] ___ {Movement 2: Cynosure} [Verse: Tim] Hear the children Breathless sleep Where they dream a new day Echoing Oh when they dream Ebb and flow, free falling Beautiful and calm And fragile, and whole Where they dream a new day Through the coil they course and carousel Echoes Hear the lost children Hear the children sing Through the coil they carousel Within this stained glass womb They sing with open minds [Bass Solo: Brendan "Cygnus" Brown] [Violin Solo: Tim] [Guitar Solo: Benjamin] [Chorus: Xenoyr] Within this stained glass womb They see with open minds The event horizon and beyond ___ {Movement 3: Curator} [Verse: Xenoyr] A wasteland and so barren Haunted by a sea of pale faces The city of lost children Raising their death-shrouded flags Can you hear the redrum pounding? The heartbeat of many as one Curator, father, what have we become? [Chorus: Tim] Radiance, blinding horizon The brilliant sunrise Their horizons, where they seize this life Our children Painters, they are They are, the change Painters
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