Wovenhand
Field of Hedon
Master say on
Good teacher yes
We have heard it said
A certain man, a certain ruler
If there is no law there is no bread
New gods we have chosen
War is to the gate
In its turning it doth tremble
Woe to earth
Heaven has dropped its gates

Who is this who comes from Edom
Dressed in death’s red robe
In thy stepping out
Out the field of Hedon

My beloved is clear and crimson
He wear the eagle feather
Chief among ten thousand
The angel of the Lord stood by

Master say on
Master say

Who is this who comes from Edom
Dressed in death’s red robe
In thy stepping out
The field of heathen
In splendor finely clothed

Master say on
Master say