This year in my garden I grow peppers and tomatoes
Peppers and tomatoes, they grow together well
And my neighbors all around me, may grow beans and potatoes
Or cabbages and onions, in the village where we dwell
And later in the year, we will bring wine to the table
Bring wine to the table, and we'll reap what we have sown
Like my father did before me, and his father did before him
And his father did before him, we will share what we've grown
In this little patch of dirt
In this little pile of stones
I can wash the dust from off my face and clothes
But the earth is in my bones
Military vehicles are passing through the village
Passing through the village with young soldiers ill at ease
Unsmiling and unshaven, distrustful and uncertain
Distrustful and uncertain and all smoking constantly
My neighbors say, "Don't worry, for you are one of us
You are one of us and it will not happen here"
But the next night at the café, when I bring wine to the table
Bring wine to the table they're all sitting drinking beer
Last night the hand of friendship it fell heavy on my shoulders
Heavy on my shoulders as I turned away to go
As I said good night, some old men, some old men and young soldiers
Were humming tunes and singing words to songs I didn't know
In this little patch of dirt
In this little pile of stones
I can wash the dust from off my face and clothes
But the earth is in my bones
This morning my wife told me that she'd been to church on Sunday
She'd been to church on Sunday, she'd felt the need to pray
Our children were baptized there
But that was just to please the old ones
Just to please the old ones and now I don't know what to say
Tonight as dark is falling, I am tending to my garden
Tending to my garden and the crop that I have grown
My truck is heavy laden, and soon I'll start the engine
Soon I'll start the engine, wake the children and be gone
My shotgun it is loaded and it's hidden in the cabin
In the cabin of the truck, and the evening's growing chill
My mouth is dry, my hands are moist, if someone tries to stop us
If someone tries to stop us I am ready now to kill
I'm watering the garden, when I smell the cigarette smoke
I smell the cigarette smoke and I turn 'round in the dust
And I see the glint of rifles, but I cannot see the faces
But I recognize the voices that say "You must come with us"
From this little patch of dirt
From this little pile of stones
I can wash the dust from off my face and clothes
But this earth is in my bones