Its early morning, its 4 AM I got to feed the horses, got to feed the hens Sun isn't out yet, I'm plowing my sorrow fields again
I've got no neighbors For miles around My only landscape is this barren ground—I got Nowhere to go to, this hellhole is where I am bound
Working hard or hardly working Not a single day goes by When I don't ask myself that Goddamn question We plow our sorrow fields until we die.
Another morning, it's all the same I'm getting tired of this pointless game So sick and tired of fitting my life inside this frame
Working hard or hardly working Not a single day goes by When I don't ask myself that Goddamn question We plow our sorrow fields until we die.
Robbed of your voice The truth concealed Your only choice To plow the fieldTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
