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
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
We 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

So 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