2 Samuel 3:7; 21:8–11
Blood for blood. I watched them hang you from the trees.
Seven sons slain as others harvest wheat.
The cost of making Judah great again.
A grudge. A famine. A plague. A king.
Seven sons slain as others harvest wheat.
I spread my sackcloth on the rock and stay.
A grudge. A famine. A plague. A king.
Through many pacing moons I grieve.

