The Lines in My Hand - Opeth

We are dying in the wake of gods and decrees remain arcane

And everything around us is a consequence of pain

The writings on the wall depict a truth that no one reads

A government of puppets blinded by another creed

Burning voice of insanity

Nothing is the same

Barren lands for the idle man

Find all the lines in your hand

Blinding storms are surrounding us Take control

In our cups, poisoned wine

Find all the lines in your hands