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Harvist
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Drudgery Of The Craft
The skyline lit in green*
Torn from this gentle blue soul
Where I, a lad, would sit
Overlooking this town of old
And I understood
That to make my dreams real
It would take the sacrifice of another dream I made that day
For all the pain that I've endured
I will never cease the attack
Into the woods, I go
The drudgery of the craft
Beckons me to strive
For higher plains than thee
But I shall return to your wretched land
When I feel the need to suffer again
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