The young bleed the most
The blood feeds the land
And I love you more
When you, you have more, dear

The land makes more young
And the young makes more young

I think we're stuck
A bloodied head
The more we work
The less we get

The wasp hides his breath
The rabbit hides his head
I hate you less
When I, I have less

The lights count their coins
The dark loves its dead