Be it work or be it rite? Father, tell me
Brings us to the mountainside, every day, a dying day
Be it work or be it rite, oh, my sweet babe
We come to make a sacrifice, every day, a dying day
Be it ox or be it ram? Father, tell me
Please the God of Abraham, every day, a dying day
Be it ox or be it ram, oh, my sweet babe
It is the blood of the innocent, every day, a dying day
And who are you to understand
The ways of him who holds the blade?
And who are you to stay the hand
Of Him who made you?
Be it ill or be it good? Father, tell me
Makes you bind me hand and foot, every day, a dying day
Be it ill or be it good, oh, my sweet babe
I am doing as I should, every day, a dying day
Every day, a dying day
Every day, a dying day