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Opeth
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The Baying of Hounds
I hear the baying of the hounds
In the distance, I hear them devouring
Pest-ridden jackals of the earth
Diabolical beasts and roaming the forests
In wait and constant protectors
Calling you to sit by his side
Your self-loathing image in his flesh
A revelation upon which you linger
His words are flies
Swarming towards the true insects
Feasting on buried dreams
And spreading decay upon your skin
His eyes spew forth a darkness
That cut through and paralyse
Casts light upon your secrets
Forced to confront your enemies
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