80. Ode to the Drunken Counselor

80.
Ode to the Drunken Counselor

You've shamed my daughter
my daughter...she cries
Limestone tears
from ancient skies...

Over the cliffs
in the land of Wold
her spirit waits
in canyons cold...

You'll wipe my people
from the earth
Paint them white
In Woldish dirt...

Murderous shame
Skeleton peaks
Abraham's altar
Where God won't speak...

She lie so still
in the silence of God
Tangled black hair
in bloody sod...

Absalom...Absalom
How I wish't I were there
for my heart is old
and yours still fair...

The new moon rose
the new moon died
in the canyons of Wold
where her shame fed your pride...

And when the last blood is spilt
from the last you can give
Hewn by the reaper
The Earth may forgive...

Then the spirits will rise
and weep at their fame
as they climb the cliffs
you’ve built of shame...