The Kingdom - Jesca Hoop

All of the fallen on the ground

Hollarin' ground, I lay down a shrine and I

Come with the autumn to tear it down

Orange and brown, and I lay a soft down

For all are waiting, all in line

Brethren bathing bones in brine

Separate your light from lime

Our mortal bind

Under the spell of full November moon

Light on the broom

Frost in my room

In through the window

Came a ghost I knew

She paid me a visit while I was in my bed

Sleepy she said

Sleep as though dead

For in the morning you are called

Is what she said

To the high desert, war is raging

You must go to the battlefield

And follow the cry of men rampaging

And gather the ones that won’t heal

Down through a cloud of smoke to the promise land

Many are dead, river runs red

«For my god and for my king,» is what he said

I came to my knees with my lips to his ear

My hand to his chest, his wounded breast

For my god and for my king, I will not rest

But in the high desert, you are dying

For your god and his ghost and the son

Do not hold to the earth on which you are lying

For the kingdom can never be won

All of the fallen under ground

Hollarin' ground, I lay down a shrine and I

Come with the autumn to tear it down

Orange and brown, and I lay a soft down

For all are waiting, all in line

Brethren bathing bones in brine

Separate your light from lime

Let go of the earth