fingers callus from the plough wrinkled weather beating brow streak of silver in the hair mhm face of despair a back that s bent from years of toil thorns grow in the worn out soil no one left to really care nhm face of despair if you should plough old fields like these you d plough up memories don t tell the young to mend their ways you can t show them better days their better days are yet ahead your better days have long been dead rest easy in your rocking chair mhm and look at your september country face of despair shoulders weary from the load life is rough as a gravel road how much of it can you bear mhm look at your september country face of despair in the september of your years eyes that hide a veil of tears a look of longing always there mhm face of despair if you should plough mhm if you should plough