Текст песни
The pendulum slows in the hall of the kings
Dust settles deep on the weight of their wings
Ten thousand summers are turning to gray
The archives are cold as the light slips away
Walls built of memory start to give in
The weight of the ending is thin on the skin
We hold to the relics that define our name
But the candles are dying and we fear the tame
Give it to the fallen one
Better his hands than the end of the sun
Give it to the fallen one
Let the dark keep what the light has undone
Give it to the fallen one
The crown and the sigil, the race that we run
Give it to the fallen one
We gathered the pieces of all that we knew
The stories we told when the morning was new
Now enemies wait at the gate of the shrine
To tear down the altar and break the design
So call to the exile who walked from the grace
Let him hold the secret and hide every trace
A deal with the devil to keep us alive
In the grip of the outcast the truth will survive
Give it to the fallen one
Better his hands than the end of the sun
Give it to the fallen one
Let the dark keep what the light has undone
Give it to the fallen one
The crown and the sigil, the race that we run
Give it to the fallen one
He knows the cost of the weight he will bear
A black-winged savior to answer a prayer
If the holy must perish to save what is pure
Then let the unholy become the endure
Give it to the fallen one
Better his hands than the end of the sun
Give it to the fallen one
Let the dark keep what the light has undone
Give it to the fallen one
The crown and the sigil, the race that we run
Give it to the fallen one
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