All of the falling on the groundholder in ground
I lay down a shrineand 
I come with the autumn to tear it downorange and brownand 
I lay a soft downfor all the waiting old and thinebrethren bathing bones and brineseparate your light from minemultiply
Under the spell of full 
November moonlight on the broomfrost in my roomin through a window came a ghost 
I knewoh she paid me a visit while 
I was in my bedsleepy, she said,"sleep as though deadfor in the morning you are called"is what she said
To the high desert all is ragingyou must go to the battlefieldand follow the cry of men rampagingand gather the ones that won't heal
Down through a cloud of smoketo the promised landmany are deadriver runs redfor my god and for my kingis what he said
Oh I came down to my kneeswith my lips to his earmy hand to his chesthis wounded breastfor my god and for my king
I will not rest
But in the high desertyou are dyingfor your god and his ghost and the sondo not hold to the earthon which you are lyingfor the kingdom can never be won
All of the falling on the groundholder in ground
I lay down a shrineand 
I come with the autumn to tear it downorange and brownand 
I lay a soft downfor all the waiting old and thinebrethren bathing bones and brineseparate your light from minelet go of the earth