Plant the wheat and till the fields
And for the Empire harvest yields,
Be they crop or soul or slave
(Or even corpse denied the grave).
This science ogre's simple song
Makes all of Bloodloch sing along--
And even those deep in a strop
Can't help but add their 'yawp yawp yawp'!



Penned by my hand on Falsday, the 10th of Haernos, in the year 505 MA.