A world of towers and walls and vast numbers of bodies
No more plants, no more wild life, no more odes to Autumn
The beauty of the moment, can no longer be found
We've lost everything, not a square yard of holy ground
The sky is filled with locusts, satellites and radar signals
Enemies squared off, soon there will be launched missiles
Bred for our usable flesh, sold for parts, for our labor
Sold for our organs needed to extend the lives of others
We have no worth, our flesh is the only reason to live
We've become the holy harvest, giving all we might give
