• Tag Archives Cold War
  • Don Henley – A Month Of Sundays (Live) letras

    I used to work for Harvester
    I used to use my hands
    I used to make the tractors and the combines that plowed and harvested
    This great land
    Now I see my handiwork on the block everywhere I turn
    And I see the clouds ‘cross the weathered faces and I watch the harvest burn

    I quit the plant in ’57
    Had some time for farmin’ then
    Banks back then was lendin’ money
    The banker was the farmer’s friend
    And I’ve seen dog days and dusty days;
    Late spring snow and early fall sleet;
    I’ve held the leather reins in my hands and felt the soft ground under my feet
    Between the hot dry weather and the taxes, and the Cold War it’s been hard
    To make ends meet
    But I always kept the clothes on our backs;
    I always put the shoes on our feet

    My grandson, he comes home from college
    He says, “We get the government we deserve.”
    My son-in-law just shakes his head and says, “That little punk, he never
    Had to serve.”
    And I sit here in the shadow of the suburbs and look out across these
    Empty fields
    I sit here in earshot of the bypass and all night I listen to the rushin’
    Of the wheels

    The big boys, they all got computers; got incorporated, too
    Me, I just know how to raise things
    That was all I ever knew
    Now, it all comes down to numbers
    Now I’m glad that I have quit
    Folks these days just don’t do nothin’ simply for the love of it