Fat Of The Ram

I live in a place where the horizon rises up to meet the sky

And a dead lake lies fallow underneath a burning sun

In the houses people dream what life would be like without a tally

In the houses people dream what life would be like shadowless

In the houses people dream, they dream

Cities by dead lakes and million miles of barbed wire

Come to the altar and lay down your numb consecration

Sorrow, desolation

There's never shelter for me in the halls of the righteous

All preserved corpses and mummified dancers

They are all gentlemen

They only kill by common consent

Everywhere I look all I see is famine

A famine of form instead of feeling

Everywhere I look all I see are blanched bones

And a loud starvation that drowns out the cries of the holy

There's no shelter for me in the halls of the righteous

They're too busy anointing themselves in their finest

After all, they're gentlemen

They only kill by common consent

They are all gentlemen

They only kill by common consent

She stands like statue of a deer in the moonlight

Listening to the sound of a faraway band only she can hear

The wind pours down the canyons to the lakeshore

And the ancient trumpets cry

Mute applause and no perception

No perception of these mountains upon mountains