Archivist Workbench v3.0

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Lyrics:

[Intro] [Low-frequency bass drone | The sound of a slow, rhythmic shovel dig | Distorted cello]

[Verse 1] 
Let’s go into the ruins, darling
In the shadow of the gallows-pole
We could have some hemlock, sweetie
And bury our day so cold

[Verse 2]
The sun is burning scars upon your face
While flies do buzz a slow-motion chase
You stumble and fall with accidental grace
In this sour and suffocating place

[Chorus | Style: Dark Ambient / Lynchian Roadhouse]
Oh, gallows day… melting all our skin away
Under charcoal skies in the hollow month of May
With a shroud on top, love—that’s what I say
Let’s stay right here, beneath the clay

[Bridge]
And when the sprinkler whispers secrets black and old
We’ll rot like we’re both centuries old
No more lies left to be told
Just us, grey and withered, bought and sold

[Outro]
And when the worms come marching two by two
They’ll share their feast with them and you
There’s nothing left here left to do
But choke on the sky, so vast and blue…
[Long, dissonant fade with phone static]

Words: 0 | Characters: 0

Gallows Day

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