Did it the old-fashioned way. From me to thee:


The Love of the Land
by Robbie O'Connell, 1987

"This is a familiar story on both sides of the Atlantic, but a harsh reality nonetheless. In the 1960s in Ireland, many young farmers were encouraged to borrow money to improve the family holdings. Within a few years, the economic climate changed and, for some, bankruptcy or emigration were the only alternatives."



I was born on the land like my father before me
And I worked on it year after year
Through all kinds of weather, in summer, in winter
Right or wrong, we persevered
And I'll always remember the feel of the soil
In the spring when we broke the first ground
And the smell of the hay in the barn in the fall
Brings my childhood years all back around

CHORUS:
Ah, but all that is lost now, it's locked up in memory
And I wonder can you understand?
When your life is torn up by the roots and discarded
All you've left is the love of the land
All you've left is the love of the land

As a child I was given my own patch of garden
Where I learned all the secrets of life
As I'd wander the land in the cool of the evening
In search of adventures, I'd ride
Sometimes the weather would give us a battle
But we took it all in our stride
For we knew in the end, it would all come out even
We'd make up the losses next time.

CHORUS

But somewhere the big wheels, they slowly were grinding
Pushed on by a power of greed
And, little by little, they ground us all under
Destroying both flower and seed
And what do you say to your wife and your family
When you've nothing, not even a plan?
And where do you go when you're faced with foreclosure
And the bank says you must leave the land?

CHORUS

CHORUS