All of the falling on the ground Holder 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 old And thine brethren Bathing bones and brine separate Your light from mine Multiply
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 all 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 promise 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 Holder 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 old And thine brethren Bathing bones and brine separate Your light from mine Let go of the earth