DEEP IN THE LAND OF PHILISTIA
FAR FROM THE LAND OF HIS GOD
THERE IS A WHEEL THAT IS TURNING
WHERE OXEN AND CATTLE HAVE TROD

LASHED TO THAT BEAM ARE NOT OXEN
INSTEAD, IN THEIR PLACE IS A MAN
CEASELESSLY IN TOIL HE IS TURNING
CRAWLING WHEN HE NO LONGER CAN STAND

THE ONCE PROUD BACK THAT HAD CARRIED
THE GATES OF THAT CITY ALONE
NOW BY THE CRUEL LASH IS BLOODIED
BY THE PROD OF THE WHIP HE GOES ON

HANDS THAT ONCE WIELDED THAT JAWBONE
NOW TO THAT GREAT BEAM ARE TIED
LAUGHTER FROM THE SOLDIERS HE SLAUGHTERED
NOW RISE FROM THE GROUND WHERE THEY DIED

DOWN IN THE GRIST MILL HE IS TURNING
NO ONE SHRINKS FROM HIS ONCE FIERCESOME EYE
WITH THE COALS OF HIS SHAME THEY BURNED THEM
IN THAT PLACE WHERE THEY SENT HIM TO DIE

LIKE A BRUTE AT THE WHEEL HE GOES ONWARD
HIS DARK WORLD NOW FILLED WITH DEEP PAIN
PAST THE CRACK IN THE WALL WHERE THE WIND BLOWS
WHERE IT SEEMS HE HEARS GOD'S VOICE AGAIN

PAST THE CRACK IN THE WALL THAT WHISPERS
WITH A VOICE THAT IS BORNE ON THE WIND
EACH TIME HIS PATH TAKES HIM PAST IT
ITS BREATH BRINGS THE MEMORIES OF SIN

DOWN IN THE GRIST MILL HE IS TURNING
DOWN WHERE THE DUMB BEAST HAVE TROD
DOWN WHERE THE CRACK AGAIN WHISPERS
LIKE A HISS THE DREAD NAME "ICHABOD"

ICHABOD, NOW IS THE GLORY IS DEPARTED
HE HEARS IT EVERY TIME HE GOES ROUND
LIKE THE WHIP AND THE LASH IT CUTS HIM
WITH THE KNIFE EDGE OF SOFT SILIBANT SOUND

GONE ARE THE GOLDEN LOCKS OF HIS GLORY
BROKEN AND SHATTERED LIES HIS NAZARENE VOW
GONE IS THE SPIRIT THAT ONCE MOVED HIM
DAGON'S SHADOW NOW DARKENS HIS BROW

DOWN IN THE GRIST MILL HE IS LEARNING
THAT LESSON THAT ALL MEN MUST KNOW
THAT GOD IS THE SOURCE OF ALL GLORY
THAT GOD GIVES EACH MAN HIS SOUL

DOWN IN THE GRIST MILL HE IS PRAYING
AS HE TURNS PAST THE CRACK IN THE WALL
SIGHTLESS EYES ARE TURNED TOWARD HEAVEN
AS HIS SOUL MAKES A LAST DESPERATE CALL

DOWN IN THE GRIST MILL HAIR IS GROWING
AS HE STANDS AT THE WHEEL STRAIGHT AND TALL
NO LONGER DOES HE HEAR "ICHABOD"
AS HE TURNS PAST THE CRACK IN THE WALL

DOWN IN THE GRIST MILL GOD IS MOVING
HIS VENGANCE WILL MYSTIFY ALL
FOR NOW THE WIND WHISPERS SAMSON
AS HE TURNS PAST THE CRACK IN THE WALL

DOWN IN THE LAND OF PHILISTIA
NO PLACE IS TOO FAR FOR GOD
IN THE GRAVE OF THOUSANDS WAS BURIED
THE GHOST OF THE MAN "ICHABOD"

DOWN IN THE GRIST MILL NO ONE IS TURNING
YET ON THE BEAM RIDES THE DOVE OF GOD'S LAW
HIS FEATHERS RUFFLED BY THE BREATH OF GLORY
ON HIS LAST TURN PAST THE CRACK IN THE WALL

WILLIAM EVERYMAN 1990