Sons of the Soil
2024-04-22
Lyrics
Men in My Town There seems to be a grouping three, of men who live among the trees. They're strong and tough, a little rough, these bold men in my town. The first he works with axe and saw, in weather fair and weather raw. A hickory shirt, sawdust and dirt, timber-men in my town. The next type is a flinty rock, he grows a crop or wooly flock. With muddy boots, and deep set roots, agrarians in my town. The final man, with shirt and tie, he preaches, teaches, sells and buys, No farm, no mill, hands calloused still, erudite in my town. I want to be all of these three, of soil and book and hallowed tree. Though just a sprout there is no doubt, I'm of the men in my town.
