I don't come here to waste your time
Talking in riddles unending
Heaven knows that it ain't my place
To question the ways of a child of God
I just can't help but wonder
What we're doing this for
If I could understand it
I could call off the war
Settle the score and be done with it
Drink up the last of the whiskey in town
And push the whole thing behind us
In the morning we'll make for the hills
Live out the weight of the blood that we've spilled
Till the wind and the tides turn
And the harvest has come
They'll forget what we've done here
And find a new way to store up the hatred they're longing for
