The Hammer and the Bowl

Verse

Most blessed among women, let her name be told

Jael, the wife of Heber, in the days of old

From the tents of the Kenite, where the wanderers go

She watched the captain running from the battle below

Through the dust and the thunder, he came seeking the shade

To the door of the woman, where a promise was made.

Chorus

He asked for the water, but she gave him the milk

She wrapped him in comfort, as smooth as the silk

In a bowl fit for nobles, she brought out the curd

While the fate of a kingdom hung on every word

Oh, Jael, most blessed of the tent-dwelling kind

With a hand for the hammer and a steel-sharpened mind.

Verse

The captain is sleeping, the shadow is deep

But the daughter of Heber has no time for sleep

She reached for the iron, for the peg of the tent

Her right hand to the mallet, with a heavy intent

She stood in the silence where the warrior lay

And the debt of the tyrant was gathered that day.

Chorus

He asked for the water, but she gave him the milk

She wrapped him in comfort, as smooth as the silk

In a bowl fit for nobles, she brought out the curd

While the fate of a kingdom hung on every word

Oh, Jael, most blessed of the tent-dwelling kind

With a hand for the hammer and a steel-sharpened mind.

Bridge

She struck through the temple, she shattered the bone

She crushed the oppressor who sat on the throne

Between her feet, he sank to the floor

Between her feet, he’ll rise up no more

He fell and he lingered, he lay in the dread

Where he sank, there he fell—and there he lay dead.

Outro

Most blessed of women, let the story be spun

Of the bowl and the hammer, and the victory won.

Dead in the dust.

Dead in the tent.

Most blessed of all.