Terraria - The Crimson - Arcade Games Online Band

The Dance of the Puppets The rusted chains of prison moons Are shattered by the sun. I walk a road, horizons change The tournament's begun. The purple piper plays his tune, The choir softly sing; Three lullabies in an ancient tongue, For the court of the crimson king. The keeper of the city keys Put shutters on the dreams. I wait outside the pilgrim's door With insufficient schemes. The black queen chants The funeral march, The cracked brass bells will ring; To summon back the fire witch To the court of the crimson king. The gardener plants an evergreen Whilst trampling on a flower. I chase the wind of a prism ship To taste the sweet and sour. The pattern juggler lifts his hand; The orchestra begin. As slowly turns the grinding wheel In the court of the crimson king. On soft gray mornings widows cry The wise men share a joke; I run to grasp divining signs To satisfy the hoax. The yellow jester does not play But gentle pulls the strings And smiles as the puppets dance In the court of the crimson king.

Brace yourself. The towers arch over our heads. The signs inching down our necks carve the path of our existence. No obelus could be printed in the temple walls. Perfection to the micrometer and no pillar could ever fall. Brace yourself. The sky is a dance of culling blades. Encircle as knifehand prays to incise before ascending. Surely the sea had been split And from its middle ground rose a serpent from a stick. We have regressed with every step we grow much closer But now we tear the horns and beg the books will end the torture. He who kneels before his Lord is saved. The towers above and the infinite throne Have watched over millions of centuries to show There is not in existence a word to describe the love the creator has left for mankind. The structures convey the majestic framework of the consuming earth, oceans placed universe. Constructed pieces scream the same verse in his name. Kneel before your lord. Rest easy child. You are saved. He who kneels before his lord is saved and will behold the architect. Behold the architect. Brace yourself for time is proportioned now to stop Dead and planets will come to sudden halt. Brace yourself. Mountains will turn over in guilt The footwork will uproot itself exposing everything its built. Brace yourself to feast eyes upon the most merciful most gracious light That any man could ever have beheld within his sight. Kneel before the throne. Seconds will race encasing quickly clouding thoughts, Masking thy conviction tracing all to be untaught. Pressed forehead to the floor, Flow tears for mindless solace upon the edge of crafting fate where it's met with oceanic abyss. Deliver what is mine to take for I submit unfaltering faith. He who kneels before his lord is saved. Kneel before your lord.

Rusted chains of prison moons Are shattered by the sun I walk a road, horizons change The tournament's begun The purple piper plays his tune The choir softly sing Lullabies in an ancient tongue For the court of the crimson king... The keeper of the city keys Puts shutters on the dreams I wait outside the pilgrim's door With insufficient schemes The black queen chants the funeral march The cracked brass bells will ring To summon back the fire witch To the court of the crimson king... The gardener plants an evergreen Whilst trampling on a flower I chase the wind of a prism ship To taste the sweet and sour The pattern juggler lifts his hand The orchestra begin As slowly turns the grinding wheel In the court of the crimson king... On soft gray mornings widows cry The wise men share a joke I rush to grasp divining signs To satisfy the hoax Yellow jester does not play But gently pulls the strings And smiles as the puppets dance In the court of the crimson king...