Tarot · Track 20 · middle
Judgement
RWS: a great angel with a trumpet and a cross-marked banner, the dead rising from open coffins with their arms flung wide, grey figures, far mountains. Keywords: awakening, reckoning, the call, rising to be counted, rebirth by summons.
No audio yet — generation pending.
Lyrics
[Intro] The stone was heavy. The water was perfectly still. [Verse 1] You made your quiet bed in the floating box Convinced the dark was a permanent lock But there is a pressure dropping in the air A shadow of wings casting over the clear The grey of your skin begins to itch and flush Something breaks the centuries of hush [Pre-Chorus] Look up at the cloud, the blinding white seam This is not the end of a fevered dream This is the morning demanding your name. [Chorus] Hear the brass split the roof of the sky Fling your arms wide to the golden eye A square red cross stitched into a snow-white flag Pulling every heavy body from the ash You don't get to rest in the dirt anymore You are called to the terrible, open door Rise. [Verse 2] The auditory cortex catches the blast A shockwave of sound erasing the path The stone lid slides off and sinks in the sea You stand up naked, shivering, and weak The snowy mountains watch from the cold As the grey figures step from the mold [Pre-Chorus] Look up at the cloud, the blinding white seam This is not the end of a fevered dream This is the morning demanding your name. [Chorus] Hear the brass split the roof of the sky Fling your arms wide to the golden eye A square red cross stitched into a snow-white flag Pulling every heavy body from the ash You don't get to rest in the dirt anymore You are called to the terrible, open door Rise. [Bridge] Did you want to be summoned? Did you want to be weighed? Every shadow you cast is suddenly displayed The great angel doesn't ask if you are ready to stand He only tips the horn to the waiting land And you stand up anyway, because the frequency demands it. [Chorus] Hear the brass split the roof of the sky Fling your arms wide to the golden eye A square red cross stitched into a snow-white flag Pulling every heavy body from the ash You don't get to rest in the dirt anymore You are called to the terrible, open door Rise. [Outro] The trumpet fades into the ocean breeze. Your arms are up. The coffin is empty. You are awake. Now what? [End]