Face of Despair

Fingers callus from the plough wrinkled weather beating brow
Streak of silver in the hair mhm face of despair
A back that’s bent from years of toil thorns grow in the worn out soil
No one left to really care nhm face of despair
If you should plough old fields like these you’d plough up memories
Don’t tell the young to mend their ways you can’t show them better days
Their better days are yet ahead your better days have long been dead
Rest easy in your rocking chair mhm and look at your September country
Face of despair
Shoulders weary from the load life is rough as a gravel road
How much of it can you bear mhm look at your September country face of despair
In the September of your years eyes that hide a veil of tears
A look of longing always there mhm face of despair
If you should plough
Mhm if you should plough