Testo The Farmer's Holiday Association Modern Life Is War
We came crashing down
right on time like the twenty-ninth of twenty-nine.
Days spent down on our knees watching stolen soil sift through our fingers.
So what the fuck are we still waiting for?
For someone to save us?
For the rains to come?
Watching strong foundations come undone.
We're not waiting for the dust to settle anymore.
We're marching in and
we're kicking down the door.
All hope died when the hunger came.
First the slender cheeks,
and then the sunken eyes.
And soon every dirty face just looked the same.
Common Graves are calling our names.
Calling us out of a life plagued by doubt.
We used to be so fucking strong.
Do you remember when we sang those songs together?
Is there no such thing as a heartfelt word in times of fair-weather?