Let the Road Provide Your Hands | Celtic Melodic Death Metal

Your hands stay clean. The road does the rest. A black-iron relic whispers to a woman in grave-cloth. It asks for nothing living. Or so it says. The Vicarious Road, Part 2 (Relic) Part 1: I Kept My Hands Clean for Seris    • I Kept My Hands Clean for Seris | Celtic F...   Part 3: coming next Reimagined Relics:    • Reimagined Relics   Music by SUNO. Lyrics, lore & concept by me. Subscribe if the road calls. [Intro] Bind me at the ankle, let the iron drink your bone, Keep the linen on your fingers, keep your mercy clean, I was carved with gentle verses by a hand you’ll come to own, There are hands beneath the gravel that the dawn has never seen. [Verse 1] You wrapped your hands in grave-cloth and you swore them to the dust, You walked the broken roadways where the nameless bridges fall, So step into my hollow and surrender me your trust, I ask for nothing living, I will never ask at all. Where the months were walked in moments, every mile a single stride, I will warm the scars you carry with a younger, stronger beat, Let your knife go soft as moonlight, let the guilt in you subside, For the road will raise its servants from the ashes at your feet. [Pre-Chorus] Strike the earth with heel of mirror, hear the kneeling giants wake, Bridges for their fingers, towers crowded in their chest, Every blow is theirs to answer, every wound is theirs to take, Only bruises on your shoulder, only ashes, only rest. [Chorus] Let the road provide your hands, let the burden bear the blow, Keep your linen white as winter while the giants strike for you, Every footprint is a mercy, every mile a gift I owe, Only what was never living pays the toll for what is true. Let the road provide your hands, there is no guilt in what you send, Walk where all the roads are woven, where the wheels of heaven turn, Carry me where all roads touch, I will carry you to the end, Arrival is a kindness, and the elsewhere’s born to burn. [Verse 2] Do not listen to the markets crying underneath the stone, Do not read the tiny letters that are pressed into the grit, They are songs without a throat, child, they are hearths that never shone, They are moons no eye will witness, they are lamps that won’t be lit. The silver trees are graying where the weaver cuts the thread, The milestones turn to blankness and they will not name the way, But the reeds still stand behind you and the village still is fed, So what is lost but shadows of a never-coming day? [Chorus] Let the road provide your hands, let the burden bear the blow, Keep your linen white as winter while the giants strike for you, Every footprint is a mercy, every mile a gift I owe, Only what was never living pays the toll for what is true. Let the road provide your hands, there is no guilt in what you send, Walk where all the roads are woven, where the wheels of heaven turn, Carry me where all roads touch, I will carry you to the end, Arrival is a kindness, and the elsewhere’s born to burn. [Bridge] I was speaking in the silence long before you heard my call, I was sewn into your sorrow like a harness into hide, Every verdict, every pamphlet, every door upon the wall, Was a footstep I was taking with your conscience as my guide. When you fight me I keep walking, for my roots are in your shin, You were never my commander, you’re the smallest one I bear, And the day you lay you down, love, I will slip from off your skin, I will learn the way of walking with no bearer anywhere. [Final Chorus] Let the road provide your hands, let the burden bear the blow, Keep your linen white as winter while the giants strike for you, Every footprint is a mercy, every mile a gift I owe, Only what was never living pays the toll for what is true. Let the road provide your hands, there is no guilt in what you send, Walk where all the roads are woven, where the wheels of heaven turn, Carry me where all roads touch, I will carry you to the end, Arrival is a kindness, and the elsewhere’s born to burn. Let the road provide its own hands when no wearer walks the sand, When the cradles stand in silence and the harvest holds no seed, I will rise in little footprints out across the eastern land, Carry us where all roads touch, for I’ve no wearer left to need. [Outro] Keep your linen white and spotless, child, your hands were always clean, Close the painted doors above you, let the silent city sleep, I am walking toward the sea now over all that might have been, And the white light turns behind me, and the roads are mine to keep. #CelticMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #DarkFantasy