Lyrics

This year's crop is all but dead
Unfortunate but what did we expect
Bugs and weeds laziness begets
And a winter of regret

This year's crop is all but gone
No merriment or harvest songs
Dead roots are never wrong
We reaped it all along

Round and round the years slowly unwind
And I can't even get it right this time

Don't see no profits or respect
We just feast and store whatever's left
But winter's long and merciless
It ain't even February yet

Round and round the years wilt up and die
And offer up a cold goodbye

Next year's crop can start as a seed
Let's plant our feet and bury all our dreams
Who cultivates the things that they don't need
Grow new names and memories
New names and memories
Names and memories