Lyrics of 'The Traveler' by Astrakhan
Gathered here to lay to rest
Our thought of malice and discontent
Our word in stone: A libel unveiled
A while now I'll rest
Alive and awake
Dressed in black, a summer's
Our sweating necks reflected in
A glimmering spade
Spare from the wear
Spare the cool touch of clay
Cut by the blade
Infected it swells, and it pains me again
Left to erode
The shallowest grave
The hatchet buried
But still it is within our reach
Can't forget or forgive
Can't forsake the foreseen
Deep in our heart hate lives
We bury this hatchet
We cover the blade
Watch the ceremony fade
It was you who buried it here
It's my wound my burden to bare
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