Trouble In The Fields

Baby I know that we've got trouble in the fields When the bankers swarm like locusts out there turning away our yields The trains roll by our silo, silver in the rain And leave our pockets full of nothing but our dreams and the golden grain And all this trouble in our fields If this rain can fall, these wounds can heal They'll never take our native soil What if we sell that new John Deere? And then we'll work these crops with sweat and tear You'll be the mule, I'll be the plow; Come harvest time we'll work it out There's still a lot of love, here in these troubled fields Have you seen the folks in line downtown at the station? They're all buying their tickets out and they're talking the great depression Our parents had their hard times fifty years ago When they stood out in these empty fields in dust as deep as snow Chorus There's a book up on the shelf about those dust bowl days And there's a little bit of me and a little bit of you in the photos on every page Now our children live out in the city and they rest upon our shoulders They never want this rain to fall or the weather to get colder Chorus