I’ve been working on the land, hon — sun got to me.
Think I may be dying. Bring me your tea.
Sheep in the thicket, fruit on the tree.
I work ’till I’m bleeding. Bring me your tea.
Copper is the trade now. Who’d ever think
There are men finding money down in the drink.
My gun is more faithful than I’ll ever be.
If war has me thirsty, bring me your tea.
I don’t get no opinion with four mouths to feed.
I’d sell off my future to get what we need.
This is my burden. It’s all I can see.
If life has me weary, bring me your tea
(Thanks to Jetzer for these lyrics)