Fifty miles from where you lay,
Starving men kneel down to pray.
Touching elbows in a row,
Who will be the first to go?
Far beyond the edge of town,
Little girls hang upside-down.
Locks of hair will touch the snow,
Who will be the first to go?
Who will be the first to go?
Vines of roots stuck in the ground,
They can't turn themselves.
Their command comes from below,
Who gave you those seeds you sow?
Thirty thousand people carry packages across the ocean floor,
Walking on the water and they're shuffling their feet just to be sure
One of them's your secret lover can't you hear them knockin' at your door?
Fifty miles from where you lay,
Starving men kneel down to pray.
Touching elbows in a row,
Who will be the first to go?

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