Words and music by Susan Cattaneo

A black blizzard’s coming ‘cross the plains
The dust kicks up and it’s nighttime for days
Wheat dried up in 1935
When the crows came round, it felt like a sign

The world’s wicked ways
Accept what you cannot change
But in this land that God’s forgotten
Fear and hunger come a knockin’
Farmer widowed by the sun
And the rain don’t come

Rusted cars on hot brown earth
Make a noose round this bone white church,
Raise a hand to the stained glass air
But faith only feeds a man’s despair


They said that rain would follow the plow
But that tight-fisted sky won’t give up clouds
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust now