This year in my garden I grow peppers and tomatoes Peppers and tomatoes, they grow together well And my neighbors all around me they grow beans and potatoes Cabbages and onions in this village where we dwell And later in the year we will bring wine to the table Bring wine to the table and reap what we have sown Like my father did before and his father did before him And his father did before him, we will share what we have grown This little patch of dirt, this little pile of stones I can wash the dust from off my face and skin But this earth is in my bones Military vehicles are pa**ing through our village Pa**ing through our village with young soldiers ill at ease Unsmiling and unshaven, distrustful and uncertain Distrustful and uncertain and all smoking constantly And 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 cafe when I bring wine to the table When I bring wine to the table but they are sitting drinking beer Last night the hand of friendship fell heavy on my shoulders Heavy on my shoulders as I turned away to go As I said goodnight some old men, some old men and young soldiers Were humming tunes and singing words to songs that I did not know Oh, this little patch of dirt and this little pile of stones
I can wash the dust from off my face and skin But this earth is in my bones This morning my wife told me that she'd been to church on Sunday Been to church on Sunday, she had felt the need to pray Our children were baptized there but it was just to please the old ones Just to please the old ones and 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 And my car is heavy laden and soon I'll start the engine Soon I'll start the engine, wake the children and be gone Oh, this little patch of dirt and this little pile of stones I can wash the dust from off my face and skin But this earth is in my bones My shotgun it is loaded and it's hidden in the cabin It's hidden in the cabin and the evening's growing chilled My mouth is dry, my hands are moist and if someone tries to stop me Someone tries to stop me, I am ready now to k** Oh, this little patch of dirt and this little pile of stones I can wash the dust from off my face and skin But this earth is in my bones I am watering my garden when I smell the cigarette smoke 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"