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Blues Rondo

de Arbouretum

There's a righteous band that's marching
They're beating on drums, and even speak in tounges
They're passing plates around

Clothed in garments of the sun
Bringing the weight of everything to bear
They're calling everyone

Out to comb the fields for stones
Eyes casting for harlots and for heretics,
Heels worn down from the road

Onstage rocking back and forth
The choir's rattling swords, they stomp and shake the boards
The rest, they sing along

Cheering for a firefight, praying for the end
Praisers of oblivion go round a bend
Not to be a downer here, but I have my doubts
See here a tide and river turned about

You, who sought the water's purity
Drank deep as the voices of the virtuous rang out, aloft in air
Come, and I'll take you outside
Walk with me to out beyond the barriers of what is said and known
Bones and lodestones might be found
On ground that's not sown nor plowed, but opened up
Like eyes to sight and sound

All around, through all the towns, word spread of a fire
A blaze had brought the building down, but who conspired
Right out in the daylight, none saw him there
The ashen rider on a shadow mare

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