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 othеr those marked as wrong
I alone own thе 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