Erupting in time movement The sea breaks the foot of the cliff Only to expose the faded face asking for air Made only to be murmured Is the installment of death The rhythm of the waves Is the digging of the grave Dig the grave So sea sick from death Readily abandoned by those above Let the sea curl its fist And pound against those below All our backs have bled Murdered many times by you All our eyes turn red Fate is encrypted and long overdue Our eyes turn white for you Our fate is sealed by you Made only to be murmured Is the installment of death The rhythm of the waves Is the digging of the grave
installment, murmured, grave, digging, rhythm