To prepare the ground, to plant the seeds
So many of us will never know the labor and the grit
And I’m not afraid of our efficiency
And I understand we have invented ourselves out of a job
And I imagine like anything else our cycle has come around
An old womb. Our soil is used
The noble thing would be to plow it under
So we can look forward to socio-economical mass graves
This we celebrate and holiday
We can attest, native bones make the best fertilizer