Arkhangelsk - Dark Tranquillity

Held by winter’s chokehold fast

Fixed in anxiety’s firm grip

Frost that burn the arteries

Underneath the heavy clouds

The lifted sword, the broken shield

The hand that drew the final word

From the frozen mouth of Arkhangelsk

Let them go, let them burn the world to cinders

And let their heads hang down

Falling through the tungsten skies

On the burning grounds of Arkhangelsk

To the eye of judgement now

One will stand in the time of the end

Sun to stone, air to fire

All to nothing and nothing to nil

They gather, drowned to the sounds

Of the grinding wheels of Arkhangelsk

With one word, one movement in the fabric

Everything dies

The storm that sweeps the world away

From the frozen plains of Arkhangelsk

Inherit from the morning star

What others brought and the land forgot

Soaring through van allen belts

Through blazing stars, through dying suns

Collide not now, but carry us

Through the burning air of Arkhangelsk