The Judge

He was sitting on a rock out in the waste when we found him

Pale as something grown beneath the ground

Not a hair on all his body, not a line upon his face

Like he'd been waiting there for us, or anyone around

He cooked us powder up from brimstone and our piss

On a mountain with the riders closing in

And when the valley filled with bodies he was laughing

Like a man who wins at cards and wants to deal again

The judge (the judge)

Sees the world and wants it written down

He'd sketch a bird, a stone, a carving in his book

Then crush the real one flat beneath his heel

He said the earth is only what a man can hold in ink

And he meant to be the only one who held it

I was barely grown the first time I rode out with them

I held the horses while they cut the scalps away

I saw him lead a child off from the fire once

And I've lived my life since then not knowing what I know

The judge (the judge)

Wants the living all to answer him

The judge (the judge)

I have run from him since I was young

Tonight I heard a fiddle through the wall

And I know he's in there dancing