Lyrics

It was not a pretty time - I could see the field’s decline
in the Kansas sun that burned hot like a fire
and my little brother stands with his pockets in his hands
our silence speaking volumes of desire

cause I can feel the rocks right through my shoes
my back is strong, but I cant hardly move
and the preacher says that it’s part of the plan
I was born to be a dustbowl man

This is not the life I chose - I can feel my daddy’s ghost
sitting on the front porch with a gun
and I hope that all my kids appreciate the work I did
and get the hell out of this dustbowl while they’re young

cause I can feel the rocks right through my shoes
like i’ve been somewhere, but I cant afford to move
I choke on my pride like I choke on my land
I was born to be a dustbowl man

and everyday I work from sun up to sun down
and I plant my expectations in the ground
why do I think my luck will turn around - turn around

It was not a pretty time - I could feel my health decline
every night I pray that I might understand
why was I born….to be a dustbowl man