Ne Obliviscaris - Painters of the Tempest (Part II): Triptych Lux

Band: Ne Obliviscaris
Album: Citadel
Genre: Progressive/extreme/melodic metal

Label: Season of the Mist

I do not own the song or images, all rights belong to Ne Obliviscaris and Welkin Entertainment

Follow the band here:   / neobliviscarisband  

Lyrics:

Movement I: Creator - 00:00

Come forth dark herald
Bringer of light
Bourne by the burning swans... and 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...

And Bruegel dreamt the angels above
As Bosch danced in earthly delight

Angels fall...
Into the canvas
Reaching for the light
Heaven is empty
.... And all the beauty is here

Upon this bone palette
This sway of nine-tails
Layered lashings of euphoria and chaos
Triptychs untold like wings
As the arms of our fathers bear the weight of what they've done
Anti-Matter-Martyrs

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...

And Bruegel wept for the fading sun
Where have all the angels gone?

Angels fall...
Into the canvas
Reaching for the light
Heaven is empty
As hell below
And hell below
Painted by ghosts
Lords of lifeless eyes
In this garden of wilted flowers
Vultures spark the mother tongue...

Movement II: Cynosure - 7:21

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 the stained glass womb
They sing with open minds...

Within this stained glass womb
They see with open minds
The event horizon and beyond

Movement III: Curator - 11:01

A wasteland so barren, haunted by a sea of pale faces
The city of lost children, raising their death-shroud flags
Can you hear redrum pounding? The heartbeat of many as one...
Curator, Father... what have we become?

Radiance, blinding horizon
The brilliant sunrise
Their Horizon, Where they seize this life
Our children...
Painters, they are
They are, the change
Painters...