THESE WISHING FIELDS

CAN'T SHAKE THE MUD FROM MY HEELS
FEEL LIKE A TRACTOR SUNK UP TO ITS WHEELS
EVERY TIME I TRY TO QUIT AND RUN AWAY
I KEEP COMING BACK TO THIS OLD CLAY

FURTHER OUT I GO THE DEEPER IN I PLUNGE
FEEL THIS SOIL DEEP INSIDE MY LUNGS
NEVER GONNA ESCAPE THESE WISHING FIELDS
I'M TIED TO THESE WISHING FIELDS

NOW MY FATHER AND HIS FATHER BEFORE HIM
BELIEVED IN THIS LAND, BELIEVED IN EVERYTHING
BUT ONE MAN CAN'T TURN A FAILING FARM AROUND
I'LL DIE A POOR MAN, LAID IN THIS COLD GROUND

NOW THE BAD WEATHER NEVER SEEMS TO LEAVE
BLACK HAIL IS A SEEPING THROUGH THE TREES
I'M STARING DEEP INTO A POISONED WELL
WISHING I COULD DRAG MYSELF AWAY FROM THIS HELL

THESE WISHING FIELDS

Me aged about four at my sister's christening my father was a farm labourer in the farm behind in photo. He earnt 6 shillings a week and kept rabbits and chickens to survive. The house we lived in then is now used to keep a tractor in they simply knocked one of the side walls out.
Behind is the downs.......