Muck & Mire
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I must drag my body through the muck and mire
Gather branches for its funeral pyre
Twigs I would rather twist into nests
Or whittle wooden wings and fly
They said, "Hey, dig an ugly well
The water reeks of sulphur and it's red as hell
Oh, rip the curb and all away
Throw the wood on the funeral pyre"
I'd call on my lord, but it can't help me now
I'd fall on my sword if I only knew how
How to believe there's nothing above
Only absence and breadth of hatred and love
But it was born into me, if I can't burn it out
I'll forge all my swords into blades of the plow
And toil all my days in those fields of fire
And I will welcome those flames in the funeral pyre
I must drag my body through the muck and mire
Gather branches for its funeral pyre
Twigs I would rather twist into nests
Or whittle wooden wings and fly
They said, "Hey, dig an ugly well
The water reeks of sulphur and it's red as hell
Oh, rip the curb and all away
Throw the wood on the funeral pyre"
We found in our flames all the bones of our foes
And cursed their names with blood-swollen tongues
We found in our hearts all the kindness of friends
Pick them up and cut them down again