But to what end, and at what cost?
the chest lies still, a soul is lost.
A man sweats, a man bleeds,
feed for the soil beneath his feet.
All for naught, i tell ye.
For on the day he was born, he was bought.
Bound to ripen, bound to rot.
Death stalks, upon man and his works.
the chest lies still, a soul is lost.
A man sweats, a man bleeds,
feed for the soil beneath his feet.
All for naught, i tell ye.
For on the day he was born, he was bought.
Bound to ripen, bound to rot.
Death stalks, upon man and his works.
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