The peasants of this world
Sow their fields with sorrow
And with their blood
An ancient order is preserved
This construction of suppression
This Pagan Wheel
Is obstructed from our sight
By faith and fear
Years of torment tear mankind apart
For they’re too weak to stop the thieving hands
From taking hold of their battered hearts
To stop the very beat
That keeps the soul alive
They see through blinded eyes
The drink the lies With faith
in their masters