About this song
The false god fell to ashes, but the sand outlasts the stone. Varina, Lich Queen, folds time away like linen, waiting for her patient kingdom to rise from the deserts of Amonkhet. The old gods will remember, and she will raise the dead.
Lyrics
[Intro] [Verse 1] A false god dressed himself in sunlight and taught the city how to kneel, he wrote his name on every doorway and called the butchery a deal. I did not run, I did not worship - I simply chose to never die. I folded time away like linen and let the dragon's age go by. [Pre-Chorus] For older things than gods of sunlight are sleeping under chitin shells, and every grain of sand remembers the court that ruled before the bells. [Chorus] I am the patient kingdom; the desert keeps my throne. The false god fell to ashes - the sand outlasts the stone. Let every age forget me; I never lost the thread. The old gods will remember - and I will raise the dead. [Verse 2] My scholars read the futures backwards in pages no one ever wrote, I sip the years that never happened like vintage from a funeral boat. The dead I raise were never buried - I call them out of maybes lost, from all the lives the world discarded, and life itself repays the cost. [Pre-Chorus 2] And when the broken lands grow quiet, and when the upstart city sings, I set another place at table and wait upon the elder wings. [Chorus] I am the patient kingdom; the desert keeps my throne. The false god fell to ashes - the sand outlasts the stone. Let every age forget me; I never lost the thread. The old gods will remember - and I will raise the dead. [Bridge] They say a lich forgets her face. They say the crown corrodes the bone. But I keep the old names polished bright, and the city will remember its own. [Final Chorus] I am the patient kingdom; the desert keeps my throne. The false god fell to ashes - the sand outlasts the stone. Let every age forget me; I never lost the thread. The old gods are returning - and I will raise the dead. So count your bright horizons; I have buried brighter still. The future is a graveyard - and the graveyard does my will. [Outro] The sand remembers its masters.
