Through pangs we work the land With pain of bloodied, blistered hands A weathered plane where life has ceased Demanded praise from papal beasts
Ground is turned to no avail That once bountiful proven frail The well of eternal splendors has dried to holy endeavors Warding off the bitter cold, cloaked in disease ridden hides Withered spirits worked down to bone by deliverance through sacrifice
Sown in barren soil Scant harvest is the omen of sorrow Sown in barren soil The noose of famine hangs for all to see
Long has been foretold the exhausting plight of man Though withered torn and cold, through hardship we shall stand No solace is sought in allegiance to those who suffer not The hunger takes our strength, but our wills can not be fought
Shepherd peoples with your scepter The flock of your possession That dwells itself in the woodland In the midst of a fruitful field Let them feed in the promised land as in the days of old Until then we reap abysmal yields Sown in barren soilTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
