Muck And Mire

Am G I must drag my body through the muck and mire Am Gather branches for its funeral pyre G Twigs I would rather twist into nests Am Or whittle wooden wings and fly G But they said, hey oh dig another well Am The water reeks of sulfur and it's red as hell G Oh, oh rip the curbing all away Am Throw the wood on the funeral pyre Am I'd call on my lord but he can't help me now F I'd fall on my sword if I only knew how to believe there's nothing above Only absence of breath, of hatred and love Am But it was born into me and if I can't burn it out I'll forge all my swords into blades of a plow F Am And toil all my days in those fields of fire G Am And I will welcome those flames in a funeral pyre Am F Am G Am Am G I must drag my body through the muck and mire Am Gather branches for its funeral pyre G Twigs I would rather twist into nests Am Or whittle wooden wings and fly G But they said, hey oh dig another well Am The water reeks of sulfur and it's red as hell G Oh, oh rip the curbing all away Am Throw the wood on the funeral pyre Am Am F G Am Am F G Am F We file down our fangs on the bones of our foes G Am And curse their names with blood swollen tongues F We file down our hearts on the kindness of friends G Am Pick them up and cut them down again Am Am F G