Antiseed

Harvest day with a loaded mag
Human crops in a body bag
Machines of death under bloody flags
Plow the fields and fertilize
Plant the seeds and everything dies
Giving life only to the flies.

Sow the bullets and nothing's left but the weeds
Till the soil until the earth bleeds
The smell of mankind rotting on the vine
The season of decline.

Plant the antiseed
Watch the death grow
The only way to feed
And make the blood flow
The reaping
Plow the fields of gore
Hear the weeping?
It's harvest time.

Nothing grows on fallow hills
Seeds planted shallow still
In the end there's nothing left to kill
These roots won't fade away
They grow deeper every day
Destroying everything in play.

Sow the bullets and nothing's left but the weeds
Till the soil until the earth bleeds
The smell of mankind rotting on the vine
The season of decline.

Plant the antiseed
Watch the death grow
The only way to feed
And make the blood flow
The reaping
Plow the fields of gore
Hear the weeping?
It's harvest time.

Germinate it and bring it to the end
Cultivate the dying we attend
The antiseed spore brings death to us all
And we watch it all fall.