Harvest and Hardship

It's the end of season,
down here in ole sugarland,
the pink slips made up,
folks about to be canned.

The trucks all overloaded,
and they're running at night.
unemployment lines start forming,
what a pitiful site!

The Sugar Fest is coming,
for the worker's last treat,
one last horrah before
they're out on the street.

The migrants are done,
and they're all heading north,
what a pain it must be
to bounce back and forth.

So , just what are we celebrating
but the coming long hot summer?
Without a penny to spare,
ohh joy, what a bummer!

And all the worker's have to show
is their waning ambition,
but they'll go back next year,
it's a southern tradition.

C.V.B. April '99
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