What These Hands Have Grown - Waxwing

Blessed am I to sit here today

Taking this time to carve out a place

Where I may find some rest and give others solace

To remind and remember, what can’t be bought with dollars

From your pockets. Not everything

It’s something I should remember

Treasure It it’s all you own

Treasure It it’s all that’s your own

Food costs money and kids gotta eat something

If a farmers work is honest the contribution won’t be unnoticed

I wish I were a Farmer

To be satisfied with what these hands have grown

No food of mine sits in the bellies of others

Instead this strange secret twisting which each only knows