Our Farmers

This has nothing to do with politics or blasphemy. The time has come to speak harsh words about the murders of those who produce our food. 

Our Farmers

Our farmers, who art in heaven,
extinguished be thy flame,
thy death come,
thy grave be done,
for earth will not be as heaven.

Give us this day your daily dread.
And allow us our trespasses,
as we despise those
who trespass against us.

And lead us not to fear starvation,
but deliver us to evil.

For thine is the rifle,
and the bullet, and the last breath,
for ever and ever.



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