Trouble in the fields

Baby I know that we got trouble in the fields
When the bankers swarm like locusts
Out there turning away our yields
Dreams roll by our silos silver in the lane
And leave our pockets full of nothing
But our dreams and the golden grain
Have you seen the folks in line
They’re downtown at the station
They’re all buying their tickets out
And talking a Great Depression.

Nanci Griffith:

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