In a small field, there stands the father With his son and his daughter Last year here stood the mother Daughter, son and father
Now the fear has gone, our storm has come Father, daughter, son, this is the humans front
Proudly look forward to the harvest Fear pushes away the good warm feeling The fields burn fast in this season The rich destroy what they can’t have
Now the fear has gone, our storm has come Father, daughter, son, this is the humans front
The harvest moon is gone and again there is no seed An empty ground, so pale and broken Again the farmer takes his old scythe But this time, man against man
Now the fear has gone, our storm has come Father, daughter, son, this is the humans front