| Song | Dust and Diesel |
| Artist | Bruce Cockburn |
| Album | Stealing Fire |
| 作词 : Cockburn | |
| battered buses jammed up to the roof | |
| dust and diesel the prevailing themes. | |
| farmer sleeping on the truck in front, | |
| feet trailing over like he's trolling for dreams. | |
| smiling girl directing traffic flow | |
| .45 strapped over cotton print dress. | |
| marimba-brown and graceful limbs | |
| give me a moment of loneliness | |
| dust and diesel | |
| rise like incense from the road -- | |
| smoke of offering | |
| for the revolution morning | |
| headlights pick out fallen sack of corn | |
| one lone tarantula standing guard. | |
| we pull up and stop and she ambles off -- | |
| discretion much the better part of cars. | |
| rodrigo the government driver jumps out -- | |
| he's got chickens who can use the feed. | |
| we sweep the asphalt on our hands and knees -- | |
| fill up his trunk with dusty yellow seeds. | |
| dust and diesel | |
| rise like incense from the road -- | |
| smoke of offering | |
| for the revolution morning | |
| guitars and rifles in blue moonlight | |
| soldiers stretched out on sparkling grass. | |
| engine broke down -- they took us in -- | |
| now we make music for the time to pass. | |
| tired men and women raise their voice to the night -- | |
| hope the fragile bloom they've grown will last. | |
| pride and passion and love and fear -- | |
| burning hearts burning boats of the past. | |
| dust and diesel | |
| rise like incense from the road -- | |
| smoke of offering | |
| for the revolution morning |
| zuò cí : Cockburn | |
| battered buses jammed up to the roof | |
| dust and diesel the prevailing themes. | |
| farmer sleeping on the truck in front, | |
| feet trailing over like he' s trolling for dreams. | |
| smiling girl directing traffic flow | |
| . 45 strapped over cotton print dress. | |
| marimbabrown and graceful limbs | |
| give me a moment of loneliness | |
| dust and diesel | |
| rise like incense from the road | |
| smoke of offering | |
| for the revolution morning | |
| headlights pick out fallen sack of corn | |
| one lone tarantula standing guard. | |
| we pull up and stop and she ambles off | |
| discretion much the better part of cars. | |
| rodrigo the government driver jumps out | |
| he' s got chickens who can use the feed. | |
| we sweep the asphalt on our hands and knees | |
| fill up his trunk with dusty yellow seeds. | |
| dust and diesel | |
| rise like incense from the road | |
| smoke of offering | |
| for the revolution morning | |
| guitars and rifles in blue moonlight | |
| soldiers stretched out on sparkling grass. | |
| engine broke down they took us in | |
| now we make music for the time to pass. | |
| tired men and women raise their voice to the night | |
| hope the fragile bloom they' ve grown will last. | |
| pride and passion and love and fear | |
| burning hearts burning boats of the past. | |
| dust and diesel | |
| rise like incense from the road | |
| smoke of offering | |
| for the revolution morning |