Muck and Mire – Lyrics by David Lamb I must drag my body through the muck and mire Gather branches for it’s funeral pyre Twigs I would rather twist into nests Or whittle wooden wings and fly But they said, hey oh dig another well The water reeks of sulfur and it’s red as hell Oh oh rip the curbing all away Throw the wood on the funeral pyre I’d call on my lord but he can’t help me now 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 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 And toil all my days in those fields of fire And I will welcome those flames in a funeral pyre I must drag my body through the muck and mire Gather branches for it’s funeral pyre Twigs I would rather twist into nests Or whittle wooden wings and fly But they said, hey oh dig another well The water reeks of sulfur and it’s red as hell Oh oh rip the curbing all away Throw the wood on the funeral pyre We file down our fangs on the bones of our foes And curse their names with blood swollen tongues We file down our hearts on the kindness of friends Pick them up and cut them down again