A man is travelling along the edge of a gravel road, and along the edge of a gravel road
An old man is digging a ditch by the side of a field, it's digging a ditch (in Finland we have a curious habit of refering to people as 'it')
Far away on the field the waves of rye, wave the fruitful waves
Building an old weight on the shoulders?
The wind brings screams with it
A man is travelling along the edge of a gravel road, and along the edge of a gravel road
The joyous look in the old man's face bothers the traveller, bothers him much
Reaches his bony arm towards the traveller to salute
It's like someone is trying to yell for help?
The grain smiles like the sea
A man is travelling along the edge of a gravel road, the gravel road leads to ruin
On the edge of the road the old man sings humming, the old man sings
One day you too will be laid to rest in the rye field, in the rye field?
And little by little the fear starts to creep (up on you)?
The wind takes screams with it