There’s a spring welling up in the hollow
It carries ghosts over the polished stones
Call the fire from the hill, the grist to the mill
You know hell isn’t buried in a cavern dark or low
Not a cavern dark or low
Oh the migrant ships and the captain’s hand
Carry us from field to chaff
Captives we set sail
Into the hurricane’s gale, into the hurricane’s gale
Now the wind blows a fever through the cottonwoods
Pressed with the weight that ebbs from the flow
Take the burden from the beast, the spoil from the feast
The hunger from the maw and the city’s teeth
From the maw and the city’s teeth
We built our home out of the mud and branches
Hollow bones and the creosote wings (2x)
Now the moon hangs low, a cardinal red
Oh the wreck and dying that crowns our heads
So bury me with the calloused seeds
Beneath the moss and the leaves, beneath the moss and the leaves
Chorus
Take the fallow ground
Leave it to the brute and the wild
Take the fallow ground
From the thresh and the heel
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