Lyrics:
a tiny blade of grass
In a great big field
To workers I'm just another drone
To ma bell I'm just another phone
I'm just another statistic on a sheet
reside in your dreams
I am the Lurker
I’m the field worker
I am the spy
Welcome to your demise
I am the Lurker
I know your habits and patterns
Like
to sing a song of evil,
But he'll never know the kind of musci people share.
Day begins, the fields are filling, Workers out to do their share,
Song
Will you go?
Will you heed the call?
Send forth workers to the harvest
(Send forth workers to the harvest)
Send forth workers to the field
(Send forth
Out in the fields there's workers every day
farming the land 'cause that was the only way
but now it's a joke the thunder's a foreign sound
we're
People go on living
The worker's hour shared
Women they join in anger
Their voices can be heard
We are workers
We are workers in a field
Drought makes the workers dream
Muscles and fields of green
Shovel the last few crumbs
Of generosity
Open hearts, open mind, open mouth, open
Drought makes the workers dream
Muscles and fields of green
Shovel the last few crumbs
Of generosity
Open hearts, open mind, open mouth, open
dreams
Laughter, joy, you need beliefs
But without love you sow an empty field
A worker for the wind
In the night the light grows thinner
The lust for love
chains are linked by mold
Ya and blood lack the change
To take care of a Range
So I'll never get the keys, if I can't pay the tolls
Oh Field Workers
Ball
million Africans
And put us on ships with cramped spaces
Next they sold us at scramble
When we were separated from our families
Field workers had
Black crows in the summer sky. Wheat fields turned to gold.
Workers in the blazing sun. Forests in the cold.
Farmers in a cabin room. Portraits
never turned the lights on at Wrigley
And in my dreams
They never turned the lights on at Wrigley Field
Singing workers of the world unite
It's just
the time is now and the fields are white
The workers are few but the grain is ripe
Let's have a harvest
Well the grain is really ready, Lord
And I'll work
and servants,
Field workers or pastors,
Praised the blessed hand of God.
So the days followed the days
And in the pious family,
The young man and the girl
drooling mess. Bitterly unruly on mud hugger alert, he usher dirt to the kick circus. Deflected labor ethic questions peeled at the field workers. Is it raw?
a scenario
Walmart field trip, workers on a real trip
Telling us to get out of the Walmart, hell no
Bikes, confiscated, little tikes, agitated
But there's no
and raised our swords to fight
For the Bible is my weapon and the Spirit is my shield
The Church needs more of its members to be workers in the field
at the bars
2.Here's to the teachers in the crowded rooms
Here's to the workers in the fields
Here's to the Preachers of the sacred word
Here's to the drivers
ol'steal
And it's frozen like ice
In the coldest place where that space be
Can't even be traced
It's the poppy field
To the leaf worker's bag the bag
away;
One million candle-powered
It kept the night at bay.
While the power station workers
Were busy making hay,
The workers in the fields
Were
away
It's the ladies of the evening and those living in the streets
Workers in the fields and junkies staying clean
People who don't have much to give,
the bars
Here's to the teachers in the crowded rooms
Here's to the workers in the fields
Here's to the preachers of the sacred words
Here's
the countryside to breathe
Ripped up fields, bullied flocks
And worked his workers right around the clock
It may seem strange but he?d admit
Intentions aren?t
Discuss these field+worker Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In