Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Shelter from the Storm, artist - The Stupendium.
Date of issue: 12.05.2018
Song language: English
Shelter from the Storm |
Heave lads! |
Ho lads! |
Forget the comforts of home; |
you’re a nomad |
We’ve lost so much since we first started |
Are our hearts cold or are we cold-hearted? |
So pray to your lord or your foreman |
That the sun might rise in the morning |
They told us hell was warm |
But our empire fell for shelter from the storm |
On the run from London town |
Nothing left but rubble there to plunder now |
Torn asunder, buried underground |
Beneath the tundra and a hundred weight of brothers drowned |
Now we’re gonna need another crown |
So huddle round, hunker down, man the shovels, plough |
And every hundred paces pray and lay another down |
Another mother, son or lover lost, the frost is out |
For lonely drifters in the snow drifts, won’t be scuppered now |
Stay devout, tough it out, til the sun is out |
Trust the censor, shun dissenters, hunt and flush them out |
Keep the faith and trust there’s grace behind the thunderclouds |
Or fall in line and march in time against the climate, proud |
What are we becoming now? |
Is this the life we prayed for? |
Time is running out |
There’s nothing left but labour |
We write our future in the ice like it was pen and paper |
Leave for future generations more than just a generator |
We must never waiver; |
this is the price we pay for |
Safety one day for our children on the path we pave them |
In the end know that history depends |
On an empire forged in the flames of what we gave up |
Heave lads! |
Ho lads! |
Forget the comforts of home; |
you’re a nomad |
We’ve lost so much since we first started |
Are our hearts cold or are we cold-hearted? |
So pray to your lord or your foreman |
That the sun might rise in the morning |
They told us hell was warm |
But our empire fell for shelter from the storm |
Turn your collars to the wind |
As our odyssey begins |
Feel the ice creeping in until your bones sing |
As the tempest descends and your ears ring |
That’s the bells of the church that we’re preaching |
Now grieving is a luxury we spun to weave our cloaks |
Comfort, warmth, and plenty feel like centuries ago |
The storm won’t crush our spirits like a tent beneath the snow |
Every upper lip gets stiff at 20 C below |
No gold or silver, coal’s the only thing of worth to me |
The only precious metal to our name would be the mercury |
That fragile strip of burgundy that ever hurtles to the deep |
Alerting us as Mother Nature’s taking every cursed degree |
I’ve nothing left, my only treasure is my word to keep |
Keep bellies filled, treat the ill, and preserve the heat |
But can I keep the peace as we bleed through adversity? |
How’s a shepherd supposed to lead |
Without a dog to herd the sheep? |
These choices that I make, I make to save our nation |
What’s a little sawdust when you face annihilation? |
Is childhood so sacred? |
Or just resources wasted? |
Every value that I thought I had debased and razed to save us |
Heave lads! |
Ho lads! |
Forget the comforts of home; |
you’re a nomad |
We’ve lost so much since we first started |
Are our hearts cold or are we cold-hearted? |
So pray to your lord or your foreman |
That the sun might rise in the morning |
They told us hell was warm |
But our empire fell for shelter from the storm |
Growing up they told no two snowflakes are the same |
And every one’s a wonder, something not to take in vain |
Of Mother Nature’s beauty |
Of the universe at play |
Seems she’s abstained from duty, left us here and turned away |
Fingers splintered into kindling and hearts as dark as coal |
As heat and hope are dwindling we march towards our goal |
Committed to the hymns we sing so after all is told |
The generations after us aren’t cast into the cold |
So burn us in the furnace, let our souls ignite the flame |
Use our bones to stoke the embers |
Use our blood to oil the chains |
We are nothing now but engines rending flesh to find a way |
And as we fall we die to light a brighter day |
Every shiver will deliver us deliverance in time |
Burn the incense of our innocence and in a sense we thrive |
Pray the future that we’re building will be worth its weight in lives |
So take heed but take no pity as the city must survive |