A million mushrooms fill the field Where marchers' bodies lately fell More marchers marching heavy-heeled Release more spores that march as well ♪ Across the twilit shadow ground And over long-bewildered farms Through palaces, where not a sound Is heard, though there should be alarms ♪ But winter comes and only ice Is crushed beneath the marching feet In all the land where once was rice There now is nothing fit to eat ♪ Except mushrooms which nourish not The body, nourish not the mind And often poison, eating rot The marchers march insane and blind