I watch the Perpet.
Black Clouds on Horizon.
I watch the Fields I've grown,
since 30 years (of human failure),
and fear the black Fruits of my Life (Lies).
I walk through Blood and Stone,
and bring my harvest Home.
Wherever I may roam,
I bring my Harvest Home.
But what will my Harvest be?
Ash 'n Dust Fear and Misery?
How bitter the Seed may be.
I hold on.
I take the Stones and bring my Harvest Home.
And my Foots are bleeding.
I won't lament
'cause I'll get what I once sown.
How bitter the Seed will be in my Mouth,
I walk upright
And bring my Harvest Home.