In the middle of the green valleys, deep inside the gloomy hills
Conceals the origin, of all that is in existence
Thousands of years ago, people were pieces of this all
But now the virginity is gone
And the green is grey
All of the time digging your own grave
Blind to see the omen of a bloody end
It was time to sow, and now it's time to reap
And your time withers away, like flowers in my meadow