There upon my hand was a
Single wheel plow as I was
Plowing the field. And going along
With each stride as I was
Digging deep within the dirt
And my plow kept making
The dirt as I rip into as I
Went along. And break through
The exterior of the field
Mounting dirt starts to collect
As I went along with my plow
Digging with every deep step
Of it. And it made no more than
A gentle touch of simple screeching
Cry as it made a whisper of
It as I was...