Seeds in Barren Fields - Beneath the somber halls | Текст песни

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• Seeds in Barren Fields
• Beneath the somber halls

Sterility
Monoculture - death disguised as life
Tranquility
Replaced by silence
As the machines
Tear down and trample
All life is lost
Replaced by a static death
Inside the empty halls they stand
Pillars raised towards the sky
Hold the ceiling to block the sun
From this throne room below where they'll die
Robbed of their meaning they only have worth
In the value they bring as they fall to the earth
The debts that they hoard they will never repay
Idly awaiting their final day

I am the one out of line
I am the oak sapling in the straight lines of pine
Love and resistance entwined
With the blood and the sap that run through my spine
Beneath the somber halls
Wildness calls

From the smallest seed
Stretch on into infinity
Amongst the fallen leaves
In decay and obscurity
In every crack
Amongst the fallen giants
Lies lives unseen
Unspoiled by humanity
We are the weeds and the unwanted seeds
Let your dams break, let the river flow free
Let the woods spread through this world of concrete
Come out of yourself, come out plant your feet
To hold back the flow is to live in a lie
To refrain from the day
when you scatter and die
To live in despair of an unwanted end
To cling to the evil that lets you pretend

I am the one out of line
I am the oak sapling in the straight lines of pine
Love and resistance entwined
With the blood and the sap that run through my spine
Beneath the somber halls
Wildness calls

life truely lost in resistance to death
succumb to anxiety of every breath
that takes you closer to what is unknown
when someone will reap all the fruits that you've sown

My feet dig into the earth
My arms stretch high
Seeking for my place of birth
One with the flow I shall pass on
The fire, that burns in every heart
The fire, passed down

My breath is the rustle of leaves
My end never pondered upon
I pass on and expect no grief
One with the flow I shall pass the fire on
My feet dig into the earth
My arms stretch high
Seeking for my place of birth
One with the flow we shall live and die

A culture obsessed by the death it itself creates, extracting loyalty out of fear,
drawing on images of scarcity and mortality. Telling us immortality can
be ours only from the blessing of the white Christ reincarnate through the
second coming of mechanized monoculture; that there is an escape from death.
But die you will, after which you shall live, your essence will pump through
a heart once anew -as your conscience evaporates,
matter and energy return.

Beneath the somber halls
Wildness calls
Wildness calls you to her

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