The Fruit of Man's Toils.

I've sent my hordes,

I've sent my swords,

Upon your fields,

Upon your towns.

You have reaped what ou have not sewn.

The fuits of your neighbors,

The labors of your brothers.

Forgiv me,

Mothers and fathers.

I have stollen your childen,

And laid them out in the cradle of the Earth.