Blood of the lamb
Runs full over our horsing town
A serpent has spoiled itself, our hopes
And vics have blood of lamb
Out calls Martin, the face of heaven
The moon is red as the blood of our prayer
A devil hunched it’s self upon our crying child
And toys with the blood of the lamb
Desert has revealed us our true dust
A doubting faith choked down in blood
The desert you created, the desert freed from comforts
Desires withstead from lamb’s blood
Blood of the lamb, colored as black and not as red
Three drops of piece, colored as black and not as red
Forgive us our ungraciousness, ungraciousness for our own debts
The blood of the lamb is sweeter than our own (x3)