know that we got trouble in the fields
Bankers swarm like locusts out there
The trains roll by a silo,
Leave our pockets full and our thin,
put our dreams in the golden grain
Have you seen the folks in line
They're all buying their tickets out,
talking the Great Depression
Our parents had their hard times
They stood out in these empty fields,
And all this trouble in our fields,
They'll never take our native soil
But if we sell that new John Deere,
If we work this farm with
There's still a lot of love
here in these troubled fields.
There's a book up on the shelf
There's a little bit of you, a little bit of me
in the photos of every day
Now our children live in the city
and they rest upon our shoulder
They never want this rain to fall
or the weather to get colder
And all this trouble in our field,
They'll never take our native soil
But if we sell that new John Deere
We work best for all the sweat tears
You be the mule, I'll be the plow
There's still a lot of love
You be the mule, I'll be the plow
There's still a lot of love,
here in these troubled feet
There's still a lot of love,
in these troubled feet you
4.7
