In the Field

Hands gettin’ dirty – you’re rollin’ up your sleeves

Ain’t no one lookin’ pretty while bundlin’ up the sheaves

You’re acquainted with the mud if you’ve ever known the yield

You’ve shed your ego and some blood out there in the field

You’re in the field – like a farmer at harvest

In the field – life is hard, harder, hardest

Ain’t no one reaping blessing ‘fore the sowin’ and the threshin’

Tell me, how are things progressin’ in the field?

To cultivate the culture – you’ve got to learn its creeds

Don’t swoop in like a vulture – come walk among the weeds

You can leave a mound of torment, or an imprint where you’ve kneeled

It’s more than “time spent” or “well meant” out here in the field

There are acres of thick clay, so, no time to fool around

Fakers, go away – give the workers the good ground