Hard Work

 

One saturday morning

I put on my uncle’s old chaps

To do some work in the yard

 

Reached deep into the pocket

Came up with fencing staples

Mother had tears in her eyes

 

Memories brought back

Memories brought back

 

Of hard work

Horrible hard work

Memories of hard work

Horrible hard work

 

(somewhere) Down below the crest

Carved into bare clay

Long grooves about three inches wide

 

(left by) Wooden wagon wheels

(while) Collecting these fence posts

Hell of a journey to undertake

 

Memories brought back

Memories brought back

 

Of hard work

Horrible hard work

Memories of hard work

Horrible hard work

 

One saturday morning

I put on my uncles old chaps

To do some work in the yard

 

Memories brought back

Memories brought back

 

Of hard work

Horrible hard work

Memories of hard work

Horrible hard work

 

Words from the book "Bad Land" by Jonathan Raban used with kind permission of the author.