Sometimes those simple things won't turn the trick no more    And our self-important dreams they all lie shattered on the floor    Even the proletariat receives his royalty    And as the battle rages on and on I wish it wasn't me    And it seems so cruel    The last one breaking up    Until the winter finds it's worth    As we glide upon the earth    Now the trees are swept aside by wind and sheets of rain    And the fertile fields once gilded have now withered and refrained    She who longs for comfort feels instead a savage thrust    And the ashen sky grows ever darker as dawn gives way to dust    As we set our dogs upon the earth    Feast on the dead until no life remains    Forward towards a pointless end we squander never gain