In the bed, Amongst the dead: Santa Rita, ora pro nobis I looked at you And touched the earth Hid under concrete and cruelty Credo quia impossibile est That the dead rise, rise, rise
tide. he's happy to prove them right. (he's only 10% water weight!) to flush out the devils eyes (i've been treading) you might need the sea to rise
drain the godsent child, a gift from the skies of life divine. Now we know. A glimpse of hope grow inside, a change of tide. The offspring of the unknown
with light As she opened up the cover and began to read the page Fly, soul, the body's guest, Upon your impish arrant Let none be guiled by false confession
cover and began to read the page Fly, soul, the body's guest, Upon your impish arrant Let none be guiled by false confession Truth shall be your warrant
Intro: Timbo King] United Kingdom... the UK We're bringing fire war To those that oppose against the chosen [Timbo King - Royal Fam] As the sun rises
Rising from the tide a Kraken cloaked in wisdom propogates his lies for love of living death... As faith in leaders falter and dole-queues stretch for
the lines Don't be afraid Of painting pictures with your mind Don't be afraid Your path is not of sorrow Don't be afraid Dreams are immortal Rise in the coming tide
They rest, they rest, they rest, they rest They rest on the coast and the tide is impending We pull at the motionless and static But the torrent has crowned
Fade to cold, beyond false arch Colourfull pictures taken of a dead mind Lifeless boatman in the shore of lake The tide will bring you The fullmoon removed
flinging As we ride this boat of hide All eagle-eyed and dignified Down the river, across the great divide Words beside at the highest of tides With
Now the water is rising, up to meet us above the ground, and the setting of tides still life. Life was a fury you falsely denied it's talking back, and
the lines Don't be afraid of painting pictures within your mind Don't be afraid, your path is not of sorrow Don't be afraid, dreams are immortal Rise in the coming tide
of false beliefs The empty vows, the hollow promises, buried in false concept of god... The tide will turn, and man will rise again from the ashes of
empty bay, One rich wreck, for thy hand is strong, A brig, or a merchant one from up along. Caught on your twisted tides, good lord, Drawn by our false
Rising from the tide, a Kraken cloaked in wisdom, propagates his lies, For love of living death... As faith in leaders falter and dole-queues stretch
