Antic Clay - On Holy Mountain | Текст песни

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• On Holy Mountain

On Holy Mountain I took her hand
I took her hand and led her there
Up to my nightfire which I rekindled
and sat to regard her ember stare
On Holy Mountain, God knows where
I told her stories of days forgotten
Embellished things that I don't know
Stories of young men, young men who fought

and died and endarkened all the snow
On Holy Mountain, lying in a row.
On Holy Mountain she took my hand
And she held it to her breast
I grew a beard and she grew a baby
And all our histories coalesced.
We're elemental as fire and stone
And mountains born within the sea
The iris widens, inhales the world
Then dives to refocus on those three
On Holy Mountain, remembering what will be
On Holy Mountain, remembering what will be.

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