Wedding bells, they ring throughout his mind,
his earth-stained clothes drape his clean body,
for the first time, he walks with his shoulders high,
anticipating the meeting of his wife.

Day after day, on the land he and she slave away,
She bearing children while he lay grasping his own dirt,
When the money comes in,
he goes and gets more of his good earth.
And all he says,

“All we are is all we have in this land,
and if we lose our homes
then we shall always have
this good earth.”

The winter comes, it stays two years too long,
he sells his home and belongings,
and those five faces he feeds they go searching south,
to find a helping hand,
and wait for the season to return to his land.

Through the long journey home he finds sticks
where there once stood stones,
and he rebuilds an empire by ten-fold from,
his only possession they could never take away.
And still he says,

“All we are is all we have in this land,
and if we lose our homes
then we shall always have
this good earth.”

This good earth it feeds me and always waters my seeds,
as I watch them grow,
if someday these seeds, they follow me,
then they will surely reap,
the essence of this good earth

“All we are is all we have in this land,
and if we lose our homes
then we shall always have
this good earth.”