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