| Song | Trouble in the Fields |
| Artist | Sarah Harmer |
| Album | Songs for Clem |
| 作曲 : Griffith, West | |
| Baby, I know that we got trouble in the fields | |
| And the bankers swarm like locusts out there, turning away our yields | |
| And the trains roll by our silo, silver in the rain | |
| Leave our pockets full of nothing but these dreams of the golden grain | |
| I can see the folks lined up downtown at the station | |
| They're all buying their tickets out and they're talking a Great Depression | |
| Our parents had their hard times fifty years ago | |
| When they stood out in these empty fields, in dust as deep as snow | |
| And all this trouble in our fields | |
| If this rain can fall these wounds can heal | |
| They'll never take our native soil | |
| And if we sell that new John Deere then we'll work these crops with sweat and tears | |
| You'll be the mule, i'll be the plow | |
| Come harvest time, we'll work it out | |
| There's still a lot of love here in these troubled fields | |
| There's a book up on the shelf about the dust bowl days | |
| There's a little bit of you and a little bit of me in the photos on every page | |
| Our children live in the city and they rest upon our shoulders | |
| They don't want the rain to fall or the weather to get colder | |
| And all this trouble in our fields | |
| If this rain can fall these wounds can heal | |
| They'll never take our native soil | |
| And if we sell that new John Deere and then we'll work these crops with sweat and tears | |
| You'll be the mule, i'll be the plow | |
| Come harvest time we'll work it out | |
| There's still a lot of love here in these troubled fields | |
| You'll be the mule, i'll be the plow | |
| Come harvest time we'll work it out | |
| There's still a lot of love here in these troubled fields |
| zuò qǔ : Griffith, West | |
| Baby, I know that we got trouble in the fields | |
| And the bankers swarm like locusts out there, turning away our yields | |
| And the trains roll by our silo, silver in the rain | |
| Leave our pockets full of nothing but these dreams of the golden grain | |
| I can see the folks lined up downtown at the station | |
| They' re all buying their tickets out and they' re talking a Great Depression | |
| Our parents had their hard times fifty years ago | |
| When they stood out in these empty fields, in dust as deep as snow | |
| And all this trouble in our fields | |
| If this rain can fall these wounds can heal | |
| They' ll never take our native soil | |
| And if we sell that new John Deere then we' ll work these crops with sweat and tears | |
| You' ll be the mule, i' ll be the plow | |
| Come harvest time, we' ll work it out | |
| There' s still a lot of love here in these troubled fields | |
| There' s a book up on the shelf about the dust bowl days | |
| There' s a little bit of you and a little bit of me in the photos on every page | |
| Our children live in the city and they rest upon our shoulders | |
| They don' t want the rain to fall or the weather to get colder | |
| And all this trouble in our fields | |
| If this rain can fall these wounds can heal | |
| They' ll never take our native soil | |
| And if we sell that new John Deere and then we' ll work these crops with sweat and tears | |
| You' ll be the mule, i' ll be the plow | |
| Come harvest time we' ll work it out | |
| There' s still a lot of love here in these troubled fields | |
| You' ll be the mule, i' ll be the plow | |
| Come harvest time we' ll work it out | |
| There' s still a lot of love here in these troubled fields |