Six, six, six, sixteen, year of King On the road to Jerusalem He plunged the morning tea So you said, so did the evidence The blood of the damned Carved on your head This is where I bring you With every moral I don't fucking need The noose that hangs you Yes, it will be the noose that hangs you Yes, I was born to make you And it finally stood In the ready country In the ready country I'm breaking down your cup I keep running strong In this ready country In the ready country In the ready country In the ready country I'm breaking down your cup I keep running strong In this ready country In the ready country In the ready country In the ready country In the ready country It will be the noose that hangs you And it's an empty hand Where I wet your death As the weather breaks In the rugged country I stand to your death And the hope you have In this rugged country In the rugged world In the rugged world In the rugged world In the rugged world In the rugged world