the sad bastard book club - after 20 years of pouring gasoline into the soil, it's time to collect the harvest | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• the sad bastard book club
• after 20 years of pouring gasoline into the soil, it's time to collect the harvest

We've lost our families to imaginary lines
Our children grew up in what we said were the end of times
With our damaged homes
With our fear of the rising seas
With our endless lists of bacteria, viruses, disease
With our blinding mistrust and our endless distinctions of men
With our parsing of the world into us and them
With all of our gods and all of our sins
We've buried them before they could begin
(They never had a chance
Their gas soaked seed was fated for the match).