Part 1:
Fields of cotton
Growing in the
blood-red soil
Fields of cotton
Across from corn
On top of beds of
oil
Pumpjacks make
strange scarecrows
But whatever
As long as the crop
grows
Part 2:
Constantly churning
Bringing forth crude
oil
All night they turn
All day they churn
Through night and
day they toil
Pumpjacks rocking
Squeaking and
talking
Pumpjacks on the
Texas plain
Pumpjacks working
With faces smirking
Through the snow and
the wind and the rain
10.9.14
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