Tiny little lamb behind the slaughter’s hand
Grinded into sand and spread across his land
You were sown by the seeds. A death that you will lead…
Them marching carelessly into the weeds
Weak and tiny seed
You will not grown old enough to bare your leaves
Weak and tiny seed
You will not grown old enough to bare your leaves
We shall leave this season
Bearing dead fruit under our boots
We shall leave this season
Bearing dead fruit under our boots
What would you do without me? Your weak and little seed...
Not growing tall enough to feed your family
You’re buried in a hole much deeper then
The one I used to anchor my roots in
Greedy and hungry man
You will die by your own hands
We shall leave this season
Bearing dead fruit under our boots
We shall leave this season
Bearing dead fruit under our boots
A father lies dead under the beating sun
A shadow reaches over him stretching out from his son
Sad and alone boy left with your father’s toys
Hoping you won’t grown up into his shoes
Weak and little lamb. Behind loving hands
You will help shape the man I am