Singing Ax - Josh Tillman

It’s been a brutal existence

For most

This far

We were clawing in the dirt

We were dying in birth

We were grinding grain in the noon day sun

With madmen spitting bloody feathers to appease the demons

Oh

It’s been a godless existence

For some

This far

We were breaking bread

In a brotherhood of men

No, I can’t recall a single memory of our universal past

And I’ve never felt a drop of blood fall from beneath my singing ax

Oh

It’s been a voiceless wilderness

For most

Of us this far

And there’s no prophet on the mount

Whose words won’t be drowned out

By our locust fingers clicking neverending in our lapse

We traded in divine inheritance to break our pagan masks

Are there none who walk among us who remember what we had?