Stones in the Furrow

STONES IN THE FURROW
Stones in the furrow
Rocks in the field
Can't hardly keep the plow from breaking
I could be there riding
All around these fields
Boss of any thing worth taking
Shotgun on my shoulder
Whip in my hand
Keep the mule in the furrow
And the cropper on the land

On this old river
On this plantation
In this dark season
On this long night

Stones in the graveyard
Rocks in the fence
'Surround the bones of those who bore me
I can see their faces
Rising up like questions
All along the road before me
With nothing to count on
But their hard-working hands
They were trampled like the cotton
And broken like the land

What do you do
When you're walking down the track
One train coming towards you
Another at your back
What do you do
When you're finally forced to choose

When either way you win
Either way you lose

Stones in the pathway
Rocks in the road
My friends and family have to travel
If I go with them
If I go against them
How will they speak my name tomorrow?
All you can count on
When your final crop comes in
Is the harvest that gets gathered
By your neighbors and your kin

Even if you're broken
At least you won't be shamed
You know some day your children
Will be proud to say your name