There is a curious paradox
That no one can explain
Who understands the secret
Of the reaping of the grain
Who understands why Spring is born
Out of winter's laboring pain
Or why we must all die a bit
Before we grow again
I do not know the answer
I merely know it's true
I hurt them for that reason
And myself a little bit too
That no one can explain
Who understands the secret
Of the reaping of the grain
Who understands why Spring is born
Out of winter's laboring pain
Or why we must all die a bit
Before we grow again
I do not know the answer
I merely know it's true
I hurt them for that reason
And myself a little bit too