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lyrics

follow signs along a narrow trail
in an overgrown hollow is the place that we dwell
lined with sticks, cryptic symbols unknown
something surreal tells you it's a place you shouldn't go

in the woods, things get dark
in the underbrush, living under leaf and under bark
peering eyes, through the canopy
you've entered to the realm of the people of the tree

We're the last living people of our kind
our skin is filled with cracks cause we've lived through all of time
Our sigils in the forest signal stern warning signs
to enter in our thicket you will surely pay a price

Our Fluting is enchanting and our singing echoes great
When we serve you dinner there will be sticks upon your plate
we're cloaked in green and our heads are under hood
hear us lurking in the trees, we're the people of the wood.

There's a place where man shouldn't go
deep in the dark forest, sigils, signs you should know
enchanted oak, trees line the clearing
sounds deftly echo and leaves blur your vision

shadows lurk far deep in the brush
Their cloaked elven figures dissolve as your slight blurs
take your leave, make sure you've understood
this place is the castle of the people of the woods

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Grime Stone Records California

Label from California
EST. 2020
*SAY NO TO NSBM*
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