Well once upon a stolen lamb
The gallows, they shined so bright
And over the ocean, I saw with my fists
The Leper known as Jesus Christ
Well honky tonks and badly dressed women
Are the types I like to find
When I saddle God's horse, and strung up your hopes
To hang my head and cry
I saw Mother Mary in an ivory tower
But I couldn't summon her name
I saw dying horses in the waning hours
Of the judgment of our final days
We'll build upon our fallen lands
Our temples whittled by time
And the ghosts of our dead will come back again
And sing the Songs of Oz
Yeah, there's nothing for me but an old pot kettle
And a Bible I'll never read
I've got pagan stories, now long since forgotten
Foundations of our history
Well a rider once rode to the Garden of Eden
But he found it soiled by blood
And he clawed at the gate-lost his right hand
To the power of the Holy Word
And men hear the voices of prophecy and vine
They take it as signs of Hell
Behold the Four Horsemen are Arabs in drag
They claim they're Masters of Time
I grow old by the day and dark by the hour
I stick my tongue in Christ
I see Angels of Hell in God's black prison
As He sings me off, "Farewell!"
Farewell
The gallows, they shined so bright
And over the ocean, I saw with my fists
The Leper known as Jesus Christ
Well honky tonks and badly dressed women
Are the types I like to find
When I saddle God's horse, and strung up your hopes
To hang my head and cry
I saw Mother Mary in an ivory tower
But I couldn't summon her name
I saw dying horses in the waning hours
Of the judgment of our final days
We'll build upon our fallen lands
Our temples whittled by time
And the ghosts of our dead will come back again
And sing the Songs of Oz
Yeah, there's nothing for me but an old pot kettle
And a Bible I'll never read
I've got pagan stories, now long since forgotten
Foundations of our history
Well a rider once rode to the Garden of Eden
But he found it soiled by blood
And he clawed at the gate-lost his right hand
To the power of the Holy Word
And men hear the voices of prophecy and vine
They take it as signs of Hell
Behold the Four Horsemen are Arabs in drag
They claim they're Masters of Time
I grow old by the day and dark by the hour
I stick my tongue in Christ
I see Angels of Hell in God's black prison
As He sings me off, "Farewell!"
Farewell
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