The green grass swayed in the cool wind. Haybales dotted the landscape and the dry air smelled of a fresh harvest. Cattle could be seen contently resting in the afternoon sun and the only sound that disturbed the silence was a quiet rattle of an old windmill. In the distance, at the edge of the cornfields, a menacing circular shadow slowly approached…
lyrics
Growing plagues and all disorder
Counting bodies on the border
Shining lights up in the sky
One might think that we will die
I see few thin shapes descending
Is this now – is this the ending
Inside the crops see black eyes glow
I won't back down - this I vow
Burning Bodies – Left Behind
The Invaders seem to be of a new kind
They have arrived - from pitch black sky
We will not falter - we will survive
They have arrived - from pitch black sky
We will not falter - we will survive