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about

Featuring John E. Miles on harmonica
The last verse came to me in a dream

lyrics

Black dirt frozen from the snow
Worthless toiling to never know
Struggling to make crops grow
In the fog it's no scarecrow

Turning back on a bleaker night
Tryna think about what's right
Starving child your own son's plight
Miss the turn and you see the light

Struggling hard to work the soil
Burning fires left to broil
Smoky stew the beans in foil
Pain like a snake in a bitter coil

See the broken family's death
The father's gone, the son's on meth
The little girl named Mary Beth
The youngest child draws her last breath

Still, the rain falls from our skies
Still, the tears run from our eyes
Still, the starving children die
Still, the leaders tell us lies

Are you mad at what you've seen?
At all the youth that could have been
After the bloodlust got obscene
After the young bones were picked clean

On this Earth, it's hard to wait
For soil to grow and choose your fate
While black clouds cover all these states
And the dustbowl echoes at our gates

Elders on the mountain said
We need a while to rest our head
So let us all now go to bed
Underneath the shining shed

(come on)

credits

from Songs From the Purple Pen, released January 31, 2021

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Chris Dryfoos Orlando, Florida

Folk-rock for the new generation

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