A man is digging in the delta In the dark soil with his bare hands To work the land for generations Is he a fool?
And I am working in my garden To stem the tide of grass and weeds With the green machine and roto-tiller I break for lunch
The man has planted all his seeds now His tired hands are black with oil Nothing grows The man is thin and hungry because he's lazy
The seeds are sprouting in my garden My soft white hands are stained with blood Again this year I will reap the harvest that I deserveTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
