Corn, corn, plenty of corn
The fields have devoured
The place I was born
The windows are broken
The curtains are torn
They're sending our labor away

Beans, beans, plenty of beans
Everyone here knows
What struggling means
Haggard old men
Riding rusty machines
They're sending our labor away

Greed, greed, plenty of greed
Company says
We can't hold over seed
How much of the pie
Does the company need?
They're sending our labor away

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