The Proletariat

Bidding his final goodbyes Tears in his wife's eyes The scrawny farmhand Leaves for the kill

Sons to be fed Daughter to be wed The scrawny farmhand Leaves for the kill

Swift as the wind he rides Far from where he resides The scrawny farmhand Leaves for the kill

The stench of death fills the air Close to the creature's lair The scrawny farmhand Moves for the kill

A cry in the dark Strikes fear in his heart But the scrawny farmhand Moves for the kill

Between the old oak vines The creature's cloak shines The scrawny farmhand Moves for the kill