| When the fields all turn to wind
|
| And the soil turns to sand
|
| And the graves all line the roads of the wastelands
|
| We hunker and we hush as the tin crop turns to dust
|
| Waiting as our farm turns to ashes and to rust
|
| When the fields all turn
|
| (When the fields all turn)
|
| To the big dust bowl
|
| (To the big dust bowl)
|
| The fields become the casket lands
|
| Dig that grave
|
| (Dig that grave)
|
| Where the well runs dry
|
| (Where the well runs dry)
|
| You’ll be raining down from your eye
|
| Burned in the sun
|
| To hell the rain will come
|
| To hell the rain will come
|
| We burn in the sun
|
| To hell the rain will come
|
| To hell the rain will come
|
| When the fields all turn to wind
|
| And the soil turns to sand
|
| And the graves all line the roads of the wastelands
|
| We hunker and we hush as the tin crop turns to dust
|
| Waiting as our farm turns to ashes and to rust
|
| When the fields all turn
|
| (When the fields all turn)
|
| To the big dust bowl
|
| (To the big dust bowl)
|
| The fields become the casket lands
|
| Dig that grave
|
| (Dig that grave)
|
| When the well runs dry
|
| (Dig that grave)
|
| You’ll be raining down from your eye
|
| When the fields all turn
|
| To the big dust bowl
|
| The fields become the casket lands
|
| Dig that grave
|
| When the well runs dry
|
| You’ll be raining down from your eye
|
| Burn in the sun
|
| To hell the rain will come
|
| To hell the rain will come
|
| We burn in the sun
|
| To hell the rain will come
|
| To hell the rain will come
|
| We burn |