The Storm - Atlas Pain

The seas in nineteenth century

Made by tales and fears

From the Caribbean myths

Hey!

Charlotte Amalie in the land of sun

Bloody end tonight

Hoping no demise

Turn the key

Looking for the truth

But this is what you did

Seven soulless girls

So!

Scream and pray

For this tragedy

The stake is there for you

And brings eternity

We are the freedom itself

We look for glory and for gold

The law is made by the blades

No pity and no more remorse

Our bursting shouts in the sky

Hey!

No one survives to the storm

A dream, a vision from the shores

Through the haven sight

Ethereal white and black beast

The elder servant

Speaking about the glory

Covered by the sands

Buried under time

Feel the spirit

Speaking through the air

Calling humaneness

Pleading for your help

«Here, my son

Treasures for the past

This is what you long

For your serenity»

We are the freedom itself

We look for glory and for gold

The law is made by the blades

No pity and no more remorse

Our bursting shouts in the sky

Hey!

No one survives to the storm

The sky, the air

Filled by songs and yarns

Living memories against forgotten times

Speak the word

Of all the ruined script

Heard by starving man

On the wet old deck

Look the stars

Magic spots of light

Singing of destiny

With silent whispers of time

But the slide

Of our tiny beings

Runs with spurts of water

On the wooden ship

We are the freedom itself

We look for glory and for gold

The law is made by the blades

No pity and no more remorse

Our bursting shouts in the sky

Hey!

No one survives to the storm

We are the freedom itself

We look for glory and for gold

The law is made by the blades

No pity and no more remorse

Our bursting shouts in the sky

Hey!

No one survives to the storm