In The Place of Trust Songtext

von Bob Franke

In the place of trust the soil grows rich and fine,
Each creature takes its rightful place, though none of them are mine
And I must wait, and listen, and there's nothing I control,
Except the wasting of my life, and the fear within in my soul;
And slowly these get crowded out by life and love and time
If I could but afford these things, I wouldn't spend a dime,
To try to kill the weeds because I like my spaces clear,
To try to kill the insects, but if takes more every year,
More herbicide, insecticide, until the waters kill
And all this barren landscape is a slave unto my will

Until I can't afford these things I'll pay because I must.
I'll kill a thousand little towns to avoid the place of trust.
And when the soil's exhausted and there's nothing left but dust,
You rape another acre or you find the place of trust.
I tell myself that this is real, that ever was it so,
We slash and burn, and move along, we harvest and we go,
Were I the master of my fate as I and many claim,
All fields would be the same field, all crops would be the same,
And all the earth would die as I must die, for die I must,
Though earth itself survives me to became the place of trust.
But when these lies are shattered and this pride lies in the dust,
I wonder if I yet may live to find the place of trust.