I may have missed it, but how's this for a killer lyric:

My arms and back are strong, and I have worked all hours that the good Lord gave
But for my efforts I have had so very little in return
This soil is too unyielding to the plough
Too hard to soften with the sweat that trickles from my brow
The crop so weak that there is almost nothing left to burn.

My savings went to buy this land, but all it's good for is to bury me
Unless I find a way to make it pay that could be very soon
The future that I dreamed as a young man
Is withered like the crops beneath the unrelenting sun
The very one that makes this such a lovely afternoon.

So what would happen if I just went right on walking till I disappeared
And would they miss me if I had a mind the countryside to roam
They followed me with hopes for Paradise
The one thing I can't do right now is look them in the eyes
I wish this road would swallow me and never take me home.


Then there is the chorus

It's not the setting sun that makes my face look red
You rich will never understand it
And if I walk as if my shoes were made of lead
It's the shame of coming back home emptyhanded.


George Papavgeris is one of the most talented songwriters working today, and in the long view will be remembered as a man who captures the essence of everyday, working folks life experience. As a labor organizer, and activist, I believe his fame and respect will long outlive him.