Story of Isaac

The door it opened slowly,

My father he came in,

I was nine years old.

And he stood so tall above me,

His blue eyes they were shining

And his voice was very cold.

He said, "i've had a vision

And you know I'm strong and holy,

I must do what i've been told."

So he started up the mountain,

I was running, he was walking,

And his axe was made of gold.

Well, the trees they got much smaller,

The lake a lady's mirror,

We stopped to drink some wine.

Then he threw the bottle over.

Broke a minute later

And he put his hand on mine.

Thought I saw an eagle

But it might have been a vulture,

I never could decide.

Then my father built an altar,

He looked once behind his shoulder,

He knew I would not hide.

You who build these altars now

To sacrifice these children,

You must not do it anymore.

A scheme is not a vision

And you never have been tempted

By a demon or a god.

You who stand above them now,

Your hatchets blunt and bloody,

You were not there before,

When I lay upon a mountain

And my father's hand was trembling

With the beauty of the word.

And if you call me brother now,

Forgive me if I inquire,

"Just according to whose plan?"

When it all comes down to dust

I will kill you if I must,

I will help you if I can.

When it all comes down to dust

I will help you if I must,

I will kill you if I can.

And mercy on our uniform,

Man of peace or man of war,

The peacock spreads his fan.