Storyteller: Forsaken for a month, like a ship lost at sea Climbed up from the tranches of his worst fears Dragged unnoticed undetected sheltered from the sun No light can reach the surface, the past can’t be undone
The Architect: Of all that have set, I’ve made you three For all that will rise Please forgive me
Storyteller: Looking into a shattered mirror His destiny resolved Erupts out of his interiors The master-plan unfolds Haunted by 3 different voices He shed them into life 3 Splints of former self The rising tide
Razor: Welcome to a world of hate, we’ll make sure you feel at home Rapture: Forget your past mistakes, let go of all you’ve known Ruin: Just point the right direction and nothing will remain The Architect: Who are you three figures? Who am I to reign?
Razor: We are the first three splinters, mere servants to you, lord. Ruin: We make sure your wishes are granted, and your enemies destroyed Rapture: We’re here to give advice, to consult and comfort The Architect: Who am I to set the world ablaze? Is this what I want?
Storyteller: The three misbegotten characters pulled him out of his state In the dark of night they slithered and shed light unto this fate One to endure in darkness, to ensure the rain will last As the old turns to sorrow, tomorrow will turn into dust
Looking into a shattered mirror His destiny resolved Erupts out of his interiors The master-plan unfolds Haunted by 3 different voices He shed them into life 3 Splints of former self The rising tide