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ghosts of atlantis - the lost compass lyrics

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blaspheme, now ingrained in sin
unleashed, fires burn within
wrath

and now the sails are set for dawn
a journey that’s unknown to mortal men
to the east across the waves
storms start to show the deities’ rage

as the waves begin to crash, you can see
the weak fall like p+wns to the gods of sea
and now the seas decide their fate
looked to the elders to guide them through the straight

and the sun it fades to black
beckoning an age of misanthropy
the age of misanthropy

passing through the ocean
under stars we once foretold
the writing of the elders, pass through the ever grey
as we wake from the mist
to the echoes of this world
the halls they seem to beckon us

beckons from the throne
putting rest to the secrets, that the elders spoke
the cries to us you sing, are falling on deaf ears

blaspheme, now ingrained in sin
unleashed, fires burn within
wrath

now thunder is all around
lightning strikes, and sails are set to flames
ships will fade into dusk
pull them down, to the depths below
fading into ashes as the gods express their rage
their just lines in the book, as the reader turns the page
only one will now survive
seeks the truth under desolate skies

and the sun it fades to black
beckoning an age of misanthropy
the age of misanthropy

passing through the ocean
under stars we once foretold
the writing of the elders, pass through the ever grey

as we wake from the mist
to the echoes of this world
the halls they seem to beckon, our soul
in the web of lies
we see them falling, falling
like grains of sand
in the web of lies, we see them falling
like grains of sand

step out from this veil of lies
out of the darkness and into the light
force back the powers that control the tides
horizons now beckon as the compass aligns

navigate through dust
release the titans below
close your eyes and let go
for the stars, they will guide you home

and the sun it fades to black
beckoning an age of misanthropy
the lost compass of truth

passing through the ocean
under stars we once foretold
the writing of the elders, pass through the ever grey
as we wake from the mist
to the echoes of this world
the halls they seem to beckon
beckons to our soul



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