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lyrics

In wastes alone, with heavy heart,
A remnant nation torn apart.
From past of glory to present strife,
Future guided by point of knife.

The outlaw
Rides again
His rifle
In hand
Toward a
Setting sun
The path
Of the gun.

A howling wind blows
Through fanged teeth.
A lonely path
Passing beneath.

Unshaken by one hundred blasts,
Calloused hands grasp reins of leather.
Curious how long he’ll last,
What mortal trials he’ll stand to weather.

Men of law stalk trace of heels,
Deep and stoic in auburn sand,
Following an unknown weal,
To an end: soldering bullet’s brand.

The outlaw
Rides again
His rifle
In hand
Toward a
Setting sun
The path
Of the gun,
Endless.

credits

from Chamber Music for Tombs and Kings, released January 27, 2020

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Immortal Orchestra Weston, Florida

We are the cawing of the crows that sit atop the leafless trees, and the morose beating of the wings of skulking vultures. We are the grandeur of the greatest cathedral and the humility it conveys. We are the storms that comfort you in your darkest hour, blotting out the hideous, mocking sun. We are the laudanum in your hand and the absinthe in your throat. We are the Immortal Orchestra. ... more

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