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