The Kingdom

All of the falling on the ground Hollerin' in ground I lay down a shrine and I Come with the autumn to tear it down Orange and brown and I lay a soft down For all the waiting, all in line Brethren bathing bones in brine Separate your light from lime Our mortal bind Under the spell of full November moon Light on the broom, frost in my room In through a window came a ghost I knew She paid me a visit while I was in my bed "Sleepy," she said, "sleep as though dead For in the morning you are called" Is what she said To the high desert, war is raging You must go to the battlefield And follow the cry of men rampaging And gather the ones that won't heal Down through a cloud of smoke to the promised land Many are dead, river runs red "For my god and for my king" is what he said Oh, I came down to my knees with my lips to his ear My hand to his chest, his wounded breast "For my god and for my king, I will not rest" But in the high desert, you are dying For your god and his ghost and the son Do not hold to the earth on which you are lying For the kingdom can never be won All of the falling on the ground Hollerin' in ground I lay down a shrine and I Come with the autumn to tear it down Orange and brown and I lay a soft down For all are waiting, all in line Brethren bathing bones in brine Separate your light from lime Let go of the earth