I drove an ancient copper thorn into your red Indian heart
Pulled the cross down and myself into a hundred weaker parts
Pointed up into the cliffs, I saw the villains they became
Just an angel and a lion spitting fire in my name
Won't be long
Won't be long
Be long
Won't be long
We threw the Stygian hypocrites into the warmest pit of hell
Down to the violent, jet-black delta where the redwoods rose and fell
I painted all of man's mistakes inside a giant golden frame
I was a tax collector up until the spirit spoke my name
In the fog of the graying woods we'd grown
Heard the cedar bulkheads moan
So we replaced it with a field
And now it's scraping up our heels
And I can hardly move my mouth
To get these hallowed insults out
Past my bear trap jaws into my wandering father's ears
So I'm packing up my tattered thoughts and swallowing my prayers
And I sold my spine to the devil-handed dusk
Finally a captain I can trust
He formed a brand new trinity
With the hypocrites and me