Wednesday, July 26, 2006

first blogger blog blog

Tan pants, Yellow hat, and Red Shirt

There was a time I was a landscape commando
Wherewith I and mi amigos did install
The turf, trees and shrubs in the burgeoning suburbs

We chosen few who stood in the north wind
We the forgotten and dismissed
Slam the holly into cold clay
Rake the soil, move quickly, hurry
Every morn we chose those who would have cash that day
Leaving the gathering of foremen with the boss
We went into the yard and chose from those there
It was cold when I went there, it was sunny when I left
Every day they would show up, unless instructed not to
Every day those who would work for cash
Rain or shine, somebody is going to be there
To see if there is any work
You, you and you, come with me, we go
Days there were when they were not enough
Hands for the work to be done
So off we rode to the tracks
Where men stand and wait for work to come to them
Some work would find them, and some it would not

Colors did not matter, speech was negotiable
If you were willing to work
And we could get along with you
And you were willing
Then come along, we will put you to work

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