Killer

I am destruction and birth A howling wind born of earth Shame will take you to the darkest places A corridor of scowling faces Robs you of your grace Wears it away, leaves no trace I am the king's bitter pill The future shaped by someone else's will Cut the tendons in their feet You can't work, you can't eat Cut the tendons in their feet You can't work, you can't eat Revenge I suppose For treading on that big man's toes Blooded by kin with love and care He will not ask is that fair Who is the man not born to belong Not to other those marked as wrong I alone own the truth Foundation stone to timbered roof 'Tis from my hands forged The iron bridge, the savage gorge I'm no good to you anymore Take me back to that desert shore Take me back to eternal war I have lived a life extreme Count the dead bodies in my dreams In the service of selfish men Where the truth wriggles and bends I did not mean I did not mean To become so mean Why can't we cry For all we left behind that died Why didn't we die With all the dead we left behind Thesis and antithesis plough the earth And give cause to nature's violent birth Dugong bones bleached white, a desert night, grace Buildings made of driftwood, the procession of the dead, grace Freed from time but tied to place, grace Footprints dissolve in surf without trace, grace Cut the tendons in their feet Human kindness in retreat Cut the tendons in their feet You can't work, you can't eat Revenge I suppose For treading on that big man's toes I feel your pain, please don't kill me I feel your pain, please don't kill me I feel your pain, please don't kill me I feel your pain, please don't kill me One day there will come a rain Across that arid desert plain Where friend and foe in common aim Will kill the king and erase the stain And there history will begin again I can't love you anymore Take me back to that desert shore Take me back to eternal war I have lived a life extreme Count the dead bodies in my dreams In the service of hungry men Where the truth wriggles and bends I did not mean I did not mean To become so mean Why can't we cry For all we left behind that died Why can't we cry With all the dead we left behind First face of power The last to hear the hour The king dies alone in a room Calling out unanswered to whom Do not lionise this king The cult of him To him you are just, at best, a useful thing Do not imagine that you had a choice Power does not need to raise its voice The king dies alone in a room Calling out unanswered to whom You will not know him You will not know him Love, love in a time of violence Love, love in a time of violence Love, love in a time of violence Love, love in a time of violence Love, love in a time of violence Show me your God now Show me your God now Show me your God now Show me your God now