Härvest

There's a frost on the field
 A tax on the yield, and a hand in your pocket
 With the days gone dark
 A loss in your heart, and a pit in your stomach
 Would you turn against the grain?
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 You sowed the seed despite the salt
 Some glutton's greed, you played your part
 Your home and hearth, it falls apart
 ♪
 There's a frost on the field
 A tax on the yield and a hand in your pocket
 With the days gone dark
 A loss in your heart, and a pit in your stomach
 Would you turn against the grain?
 ♪
 You sowed the seed despite the salt
 Some glutton's greed, you played your part
 Your home and hearth
 You play your part until we give the signal
 This is our harvest, this is the fruits we bear
 Siloed for a profit or dying on the vine
 Isn't this our harvest?
 Isn't this our feast to share?
 Wiser ones are asking themselves
 Who's swinging the scythe?
 ♪
 There's a frost on the field
 A tax on the yield, and a hand in your pocket
 And a pox on the land
 The manor demands, but the sickle is in your hand
 There's a pox on the land
 The manor demands, but the sickle is in your hand
 The sickle is in your hand
 Well, this is our harvest, this is the fruits we bear
 Siloed for a profit or dying on the vine
 Isn't this our harvest?
 Well, isn't this our feast to share?
 Wiser ones are asking themselves
 Am I swinging this scythe for someone else instead?
 ♪
 Well, this is our harvest, this is the fruits we bear
 Siloed for a profit or dying on the vine
 Well, isn't this our harvest?
 Well, isn't this our feast to share?
 Wiser ones are asking themselves
 Who's swinging the scythe?
 Who's swinging it?