Dust Altar

The dust of El Centro finally settled down,
an empty nest, a mother weeping near her dying hound,
a father in seclusion, he's making peace with God,
his ways are hard, his ways are old, his ways are slightly flawed

Bell runs out to the haystacks in the field,
she screams, "I will leave this hell, its offered all that it could yield,
Maryn went out west and she writes of peaceful lands,
I can no longer eat out of my father's broken hands."


Like a ram caught in the sticks, like the grace of God,
one day you'll give thanks for the dusty altar where he damn near took your life


Papa keeps on prayin' he's desperate for his kin,
he screams high into the heavens, "God please let my children in!"
Bell stays up late, she says, "I just can't see,
how a righteous man will work his days and never live free"

Brother sends down curses on the blood running in his veins,
he says, "I am Abel, wanderin' the streets with my brother Cain"
A ghostly spitting image, of his father's sturdy brow,
Ain't it funny how we despise those that we can't live without