This year in my garden I grow peppers and tomatoes
Peppers and tomatoes, they grow together well
And my neighbors all around me they grow beans and potatoes
Cabbages and onions in this village where we dwell
And later in the year we will bring wine to the table
Bring wine to the table and reap what we have sown
Like my father did before and his father did before him
And his father did before him, we will share what we have grown
This little patch of dirt, this little pile of stones
I can wash the dust from off my face and skin
But this earth is in my bones
Military vehicles are passing through our village
Passing through our village with young soldiers ill at ease
Unsmiling and unshaven, distrustful and uncertain
Distrustful and uncertain and all smoking constantly
And my neighbors say, "Don't worry for you are one of us
You are one of us and it will not happen here"
But the next night at the cafe when I bring wine to the table
When I bring wine to the table but they are sitting drinking beer
Last night the hand of friendship fell heavy on my shoulders
Heavy on my shoulders as I turned away to go
As I said goodnight some old men, some old men and young soldiers
Were humming tunes and singing words to songs that I did not know
Oh, this little patch of dirt and this little pile of stones
I can wash the dust from off my face and skin
But this earth is in my bones
This morning my wife told me that she'd been to church on Sunday
Been to church on Sunday, she had felt the need to pray
Our children were baptized there
But it was just to please the old ones
Just to please the old ones and I don't know what to say
Tonight as dark is falling, I am tending to my garden
Tending to my garden and the crop that I have grown
And my car is heavy laden and soon I'll start the engine
Soon I'll start the engine, wake the children and be gone
Oh, this little patch of dirt and this little pile of stones
I can wash the dust from off my face and skin
But this earth is in my bones
My shotgun it is loaded and it's hidden in the cabin
It's hidden in the cabin and the evening's growing chilled
My mouth is dry, my hands are moist and if someone tries to stop me
Someone tries to stop me, I am ready now to kill
Oh, this little patch of dirt and this little pile of stones
I can wash the dust from off my face and skin
But this earth is in my bones
I am watering my garden when I smell the cigarette smoke
Smell the cigarette smoke and I turn round in the dust
And I see the glint of rifles but I cannot see the faces
But I recognize the voices that say, "You must come with us"