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The Year Of The Dust
The fields grew so lovely
The land of plenty always provided us her duty
Until the year of ’30 came rolling in
And, she quit giving her grain away
And, she caged herself in
And, she hid her face from us for many years
The skies turned brown and the heavens were all lost
As she fell asleep under a blanket of dust
Goodnight, for now, my children
How I wish I didn’t have to do this to you this way
But, my heart has been broken
And, the skies will give no rain for some time now
And, oh, how I will miss the winter grain
The rolling plains and sound of you laughing
The skies turned brown and the heavens were all lost
As she fell asleep under a blanket of dust
Now that the soup bowls are empty
The migration must begin…
… and, it just keeps rolling, blowing in
Until, once again, when those same bowls are over-pouring
We will have known what true struggle was
And, we will finally know what it truly means to live and what really matters to us
The skies are turning brown and the heavens are being lost
But, not for long
At least, not forever
