The Mountain Goats — Before I Got There

[Verse 1] The acrid smell of burning branches, the relics all in ruin Broken blades atop the altar, cheap substitutions And the tapestry above torn down, trampled, then re-hung Now illegible forever, an oracle with no tongue [Chorus] All of this, all of this All of this before I got there [Verse 2] And in a pit behind the altar, the bodies of the fallen Heavy tracks up to the lip just to prove that they were crawling Faces turned toward the sky that they would never see again Victims of the fallout, I have failed you sweet young men [Chorus] All of this, all of this All of this before I got there