Kevin Browne: Songs

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)

I lay my hands upon this implement and raise it high above my head
Striking the ground, wrenching away with force
The loam is sandy here, the rain is swallowed up
I’m etching furrows now
I have become, I have become the plow

And I know my sins are numerous, they overshadow me
And like broken pieces of pottery again I’ve come undone
Can I put my hand to the plow and not look back now
‘Cause the only one without stains on his hands can give me hope, gives me hope

I feel the dirt behind my fingernails
Working with the earth one sees such small details
And the source of life breaks through
To extract the weed my hand descends to the core where roots are found
I have become, I have become the ground

Chorus