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Fingers callus from the plough wrinkled weather beatin' brow |
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Streak of silver in the hair mhm face of despair |
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A back that's bent from years of toil thorns grow in the worn out soil |
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No one left to really care nhm face of despair |
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If you should plough old fields like these you'd plough up memories |
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Don't tell the young to mend their ways you can't show them better days |
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Their better days are yet ahead your better days have long been dead |
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Rest easy in your rocking chair mhm and look at your September country |
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Face of despair |
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Shoulders weary from the load life is rough as a gravel road |
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How much of it can you bear mhm look at your September country face of despair |
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In the September of your years eyes that hide a veil of tears |
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A look of longing always there mhm face of despair |
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If you should plough... |
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Mhm if you should plough... |
