When the Harvest Comes

Dust bowl days and desperation. Last chance land rush. Grifters cheated for a quick buck, turnin’ fertile ground to dust. Notes are posted for my neighbors, ‘cause the bank foreclosed their land. Some lost their minds to madness, others left by their own hand. Thoughts and prayers, dust on my tongue. Next year’s the one, when the harvest comes. I am just a poor girl tryin’. I have no hour to spare. Every year gets a little harder when the drought strips you bare. Heartbreak is the cattle cryin’. They’re as close to me as kin. How long must I learn from losing? How long ’til it rains again? Thoughts and prayers, dust on my tongue. Next year’s the one, when the harvest comes. I never tire of dreamin’, weather willing, prices high. I wanna feel the hunger, not this pain I got inside. Thoughts and prayers, dust on my tongue. Next year’s the one, when the harvest comes.