Harvest day with a loaded mag

Human crops in body bags

Machines of death under bloody flags

Plow the fields and fertilize

Plant the seeds and everything dies

Giving life only to the flies

Sow the bullet

And nothing’s left but the weeds

Till the soil until the earth bleeds

The smell of mankind rotting on the vine

The season of decline

Plant the antiseed

Watch the death grow

The only way to feed

And watch the blood flow

The reaping

Plant the seeds of gore

Hear the weeping?

It’s harvest time

Nothing grows on fallow hills

Seeds planted shallow still

In the end there’s nothing left to kill

These roots won’t fade away

They grow deeper every day

Destroying everything in play

Germinate it and bring it to the end

Cultivate the dying we attend

The antiseed spore brings death to us all

And we watch it all fall