There is beauty in working with hands
That I can never describe in words
Yet here I give it a try, before my land goes dry
Everyday I sow seeds & plant plants
Without knowing what they'll look like
In years to come, when there's no music to hum
Some say it's boring farm work
Under hot sun & cold rain
Yet I keep doing it over & over
For I know why I'm growing
As it's the only way to a world
Free of tyranny, depression & eternal suffering
So I'll keep growing till my land goes dry
For I need to feed the last man on earth
Give him hope & few seeds to grow.
Mar 3, 2020
Mar 3, 2020 at 3:50 AM UTC
There is beauty in working with hands
That I can never describe in words
Yet here I give it a try, before my land goes dry
Everyday I sow seeds & plant plants
Without knowing what they'll look like
In years to come, when there's no music to hum
Some say it's boring farm work
Under hot sun & cold rain
Yet I keep doing it over & over
For I know why I'm growing
As it's the only way to a world
Free of tyranny, depression & eternal suffering
So I'll keep growing till my land goes dry
For I need to feed the last man on earth
Give him hope & few seeds to grow.
From the time when I was working in a permaculture farm