Any human village once finds itself All surrounded by the brown cloud of spores After it is gone, at your backyard Small and strange, mushrooms slowly grow Next week villagers are happy to get mushroom crop Wow! Their food problem is now solved Until the mushrooms have become Too many and too tough to cut Trapped and devoured by mushroom rings Aged, old and dead, vile spores within When the mushrooms grow tall Taller than a bell tower Neither axe nor saw Can ever chop them Get used to live in shade Of the mighty mushroom ring Can't run and can't escape The dazing slumber Things grow old with every minute Living beings old in hours Walls and fences rot in few weeks Inside the glowing mushroom rings Dead marshes in violet spore clouds Moldering dust in air and ground