Bent down and digging holes
In our lives, lanes that lead nowhere
Two days more won't take the time
After so many years of chasing our tails
Journeys on the same train in the same seat with the same view
The noise we hear and ignore, Goodness knows what her name is
But I see her beauty, Long braided hair, bones in her throat
Bangles and rings her skin seems to shine, I know she's gone away, so I go
Home to safety, The days of daring
Daring to change, Daring to accept
Daring to lead and be led
The days in the fields where we live
Work then in fields full
And wash those worries in honest sweat
Or just sweat, Hope for the sun day after day
Adding life to your years or years to your life
Days gone from our lives, Run over fields in white coats
And answers found in white coats
Working those lines for freedom
Working those lines of freedom
Thinking of what you should
Do it and then those ingrained expectations of society and family, where we are expected to be the role
Husband wife father son daughter
Not dressed, Not even dressed for those jobs
The joy of living in fields, Fields of plenty
Fields with frontiers
Holding on to the freedom, The line of faith
Back to the same things, Same cycle of thoughts
Those foolish dreams and ideas, Whims and fancies
Certain to come again, Those should-haves or what-abouts
Amen Amen! To those things, Close the thoughts and the truths and lies
The world goes on with rain, As I stand and watch the arguments
View held with little consideration, Active in my way or just side-lined
Either way makes hay in these fields, Fields of plenty
Fields where we live, Bring on the Dr or the priests
I shall live, In these fields
I am ready