There is beauty in working with hands
That I can never describe in words
Yet here I give it a try, before my land goes dry

Everyday I sow seeds & plant plants
Without knowing what they'll look like
In years to come, when there's no music to hum

Some say it's boring farm work
Under hot sun & cold rain
Yet I keep doing it over & over

For I know why I'm growing
As it's the only way to a world
Free of tyranny, depression & eternal suffering

So I'll keep growing till my land goes dry
For I need to feed the last man on earth
Give him hope & few seeds to grow.