Laborer's Dirge

Here we fall before the sky,
The sky,
The sky,
Before we die.

There we toiled in the fields,
The fields,
The fields,
The power he wields.

Again we wash blood from the hands,
The hands,
The hands,
Which formed these lands.

Never again before the whip,
The whip,
The whip,
Shall we slip.

Below the earth we worked so long,
So long,
So long,
Lie bodies strong.

With our Lord we finally rest,
We rest,
We rest,
Far from the pest.