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Salts in the fields, harvest iniquity,

is this how we show we care,

obligation, grief and despair?

The roots are poisoned...

Dig deep in the earth

the bounty you've sewn,

restricted wings, wedding rings.

The roots are poisoned...

In their hair there are no braids,

slaves who refuse to serve their masters.

Your evening obligation

is the soil on your face.

When I'm burned alive,

will you go down in flames?

What freedoms are denied you

other than your right to breathe?

What expectations are placed on you?

Conform, discard, dilute!

The roots are poisoned...