Things in the Soil

There's things in the soil where I'm from They come up through the peat And dig into your feet And then...well, no-one quite knows And the soil's all barren For the plants never grow 'Cause there's things in the soil where I'm from And I'm inclined I'm inclined to leave A mask to protect from the wind There's a man outside With the things in his eyes How slowly they eat at his skin And it worsens, you know With each breeze that blows His way There's things in the soil where I'm from They come up through the peat And dig into your feet And then...well, no-one quite knows And the soil's all barren For the plants never grow 'Cause there's things in the soil where I'm from And I'm inclined I'm inclined to leave All feeling is gone from my hands I lost all sensation In planting my land Still, nothing has grown I believe that they've eaten Each seed that I sowed That day Oh, that day There's things in the soil where I'm from They come up through the peat And dig into your feet And then...well, no-one quite knows And the soil's all barren For the plants never grow 'Cause there's things in the soil where I'm from And I'm inclined I'm inclined to leave I'd leave here, if not for the risk Each garment I own Is covered in this Passel of parasite pests And I fear that in leaving I spread to the rest My plague There's things in the soil where I'm from They come up through the peat And dig into your feet And then...well, no-one quite knows And the soil's all barren For the plants never grow 'Cause there's things in the soil where I'm from And I'm inclined I'm inclined to leave Oh yes, to leave