Cry Of The Afflicted - Anchors

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Hold close your treasures

The very measure of your value here

Within these shining walls



Now, raise them higher

They'll last forever if you're careful now

If you lock them all, lock them down



Wrapped in Your precious cloak

Spun from gold, spun from gold

Useless, you're reaching back

Dead and cold, dead and cold



This weight you've trusted

Polished and sacred has you safe, secure

You lie in soothing sleep



One flash, it's happened

A last desperate moment

Now the weight falls free

But have you sunk too deep, to breathe



Wrapped in your precious cloak

Spun from gold, spun from gold

Useless, you're reaching back

Dead and cold, dead and cold



Your chest is tight, held in death's embrace

As your eyes lift up, can you see your escape?

One last fleeting glance, at the shine below

One last freedom chance, surrendered to the cold

This useless gold



Wrapped in your precious cloak

Spun from gold, spun from gold

Useless, you're reaching back

Dead and cold, dead and cold



© N/A















		
			



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