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