The Band Of Heathens - Motherland lyrics

(*Brooks) [** Bonus:] Hey mother fertile one* Speak to me your numbered son From the dust of wood and stone Gave you birth to flesh and bone s**led we your lovely breast And filled your shores from east to west Plucked the fruit from every vine And filled the stores at harvest time But from the seed of Eve child's womb Human hands have wrought their doom Hey mother tell your child The fertile fields have grown up wild Do you see your cherished pride Drying on a withered vine Withered vine, do you see Bitter wine left on the leaves Hey mother hear my plea Send the one to set us free To turn away our hearts no more And slake our thirst for blood and war Blood and war, days of old Bring the lion to the fold Hey children hear my plea Locust come like stormy seas Study now your own two hands Lest you lose your mother's land Study now your own two hands Lest you lose your mother's land