土里人

[Verse 1] Once I thought the soil beneath my feet was holy ground I bowed my head, and saw it was just plain dirt The rich stand high in towers, listening to the rain They say this place is poetry I stand upon the ridge and watch the clouds I only say the sky is waiting for the rain [Verse 2] Poets sing, "the chimney smoke, how beautiful" The farmer's wife wipes her eyes, "the ashes sting" One grinds the soot into ink, trades it for three cups of wine One rubs the soot into her palms, trades it for the passing years [Chorus] Let it be, let it be When I'm free of every tie, I'll roll back in this soil East side, mend my crooked fence West side, plant my stubborn mums Half a life of sun and moon steeped in my tea A handful of joy dug from the earth Either way, they are my own days Poor and sour, so be it — free is fine [Bridge] Peach-blossom paradise, a dream drawn on paper — for the onlookers Farmers, a life rooted in dirt — for themselves alone A crooked fence has its own way to stand A stubborn mum has its own way to bloom [Chorus] Let it be, let it be Half a life steeped in tea, a handful dug from earth Either way, they are my own days Poor and sour, so be it — free is fine [Outro] I think I finally understand Holy ground, or just plain dirt Either way, they are my own days Let it be, let it be