Winter is a breath away
But the children play like a summer day
The grains, the harvest
Will have their say
They trust the hands
That promise food
The harvest chaos
For the common good
But the land cries out rebuke
And we can't afford to lose
So the fight is the same as in the days of yore
Where Heavy hands
Break other backs for more
They still take what can't be theirs
Mother nature, captive
For a cause that doesn't care
While empty hands reach up for more
They're selling seed patents today in court
So the fight is the same as in the days of yore
'Cause
What isn't mine, doesn't make it yours.
What isn't mine, doesn't make it yours.
We've gone to the right
We've gone to the left
We draw our lines where sand is sifted
there's nothing left
But the hourglass is lifted again
we're off on the right or the left
Having guarded nothing worth being kept
The dignity of man,
the fruit that God gives
But tyranny is what We're covered in
But tyranny is what we're covered in
So what will become of the poorest,
What will become of the fatherless,
Keep our soil under us.
turn off the sounds that distract
Leave your borrowed souls in tact
Lift your eyes up to the One with answers
Who gave us this earth to feed
The masses
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