Sacrifice Songtext
von Toadstone

Fields full of barley, of wheatears and corn
Fruit growing ripe by the light of the sun
Our bountiful harvest keeps suffering away
Yet the land gets more barren with each passing day

And our days are growing few


The soil once fertile now sticks in the plough
Once plentiful berries grow scarce on the bough
As the land gets more hostile we hope and we pray
As our crops wilt and fail we look to the old ways

And our days are growing few
And a sacrifice is due