Agalloch

Life is a clay urn on the mantle
And I am shattered on the floor
Life is a clay urn on the mantle
And I am scattered on the floor
We are the wounds and the great cold death of the earth. . .
'Earth is floating on the waters like an island,
Hanging from four rawhide ropes
Fastened at the top of the Sacred four directions.
The ropes are tied to the ceiling of the sky,
When the ropes break, this world will come