Testo Fertile Fields

FERTILE FIELDSSometimes those simple things won't turn the trick no moreAnd our self-important dreams they all lie shattered no the floorEven the proletariat receives his royaltyAnd as the battle rages on and on I wish it wasn't meAnd it seems so cruelThe last one breaking upUntil the winter finds it's worthAs we glide upon the earthNow the trees are swept aside by wind and sheets of rainAnd the fertile fields once gilded have now withered and refrainedShe who longs for comfort feels instead a savage thrustAnd the ashen sky grows ever darker as dawn gives way to dustAs we set our dogs upon the earthFeast on the dead until no life remainsForward towards a pointless end we squander never gain