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Insomnium - The Descent Lyrics

And yet it wrings me
Like a strange cold hand
And yet it burns me
Like a viper's tongue
Better it would be
To lie on bed of silt
And watch the moon's face
From under the waves
Better it would be
To rest on bed of mire
Inside the ocean's womb
Dreaming of days long gone
Sunless, starless, pathless is the way