Agalloch - Into The Painted Grey - GTP табы

The jagged lines in these wooden hands 
speak of a silent aeon below the depths 
of an austere ebon tide 
for centuries kingdoms have risen 
upon the ancient hands of a god 
once severed for the world's birth 
a sacrifice to the storms of life 
now darkness is thine sanctum 

Temples of magma steam across the grey 
The arc that transcends my iconic pride 
For I am not an ageless god, no, I am imprisoned by time 
These ancient palms shall once again be mine 

Hands...hands that lift the oceans 
to vertical depths above the stars 
For when I die, the universe will die with me 
and all will be lost forever gone 

Where am I? 
How long shall I suffer here? 
Forlorn in the cold neolithic embrace 
Forsaken deep in the sullen tide 
How long shall I suffer here? 

Perched on the cliffside gazing out into the brine 
My archaic beard pours downward and joins the feral sea 
I am the heritage; the quintessence of myth and legend 
The archetype of Pagan might and divinity 

Hands...hands that lift the oceans 
to vertical depths beyond the stars 
I gather a celestial blanket around these tired bones 
and finally slumber in the clouds of ice 
These are my hands... 
...so it is done