Fat of the Ram

I live in a place where the horizon rises up to meet the sky
 And a dead lake lies fallow underneath a burning sun
 In the houses people dream what life would be like without a tally
 In the houses people dream what life would be like shadowless
 Cities by dead lakes and million miles of barbed wire
 Come to the altar and lay down your numb consecration
 Sorrow, desolation
 There's never shelter for me in the halls of the righteous
 All preserved corpses and mummified dancers
 They are all gentlemen
 They only kill by common consent
 Everywhere I look all I see is famine
 A famine of form instead of feeling
 Everywhere I look all I see are blanched bones
 And a loud starvation that drowns out the cries of the holy
 There's no shelter for me in the halls of the righteous
 They're too busy anointing themselves in their finest
 After all, they're gentlemen
 They only kill by common consent
 They are all gentlemen
 They only kill by common consent
 She stands like statue of a deer in the moonlight
 Listening to the sound of a faraway band only she can hear
 The wind pours down the canyons to the lakeshore
 And the ancient trumpets cry
 Mute applause and no perception
 No perception of these mountains upon mountains