PEPPERS AND TOMATOES

Ralph McTell

If you’re in my garden I grow peppers and tomatoes,
Peppers and tomatoes, they grow together well,
And my neighbours all around me they grow beans and potatoes
Cabbages and onions in this village where we dwell.

And later in the year we will bring wine to the table
Bring wine to the table, we will share what we have grown.
Like my father did before me and his father did before him
And his father did before him, we will reap what we have sown.

From this little patch of dirt, from this little pile of stones
I can wash the dust from my arm, my face, my skin
But this earth is in my bones.

Military vehicles are moving through our village
With young soldiers ill at ease
Unsmiling and unshaven, distrustful and uncertain
Distrustful and uncertain, and all smoking constantly.

And my neighbours they don’t worry “You are one of us”,
“You are one of us my friend, it will not happen here”.
But the next night at the café, when I bring wine to the table,
When I bring wine to the table, they are sitting drinking beer.

Oh, last night they had the friendship, they were heavy on my shoulder,
Heavy on my shoulder as I turned away to go.
And I said goodnight to old men, some old men and young soldiers
Were humming tunes and singing words to songs that I didn’t know.

On this little patch of dirt, on this little pile of stones
I can wash the dust from my arm, my face, my skin
But this earth is in my bones.

This morning my wife told me that she’d been to church on Sunday,
Been to church on Sunday, she had felt the need to pray.
Our children were baptised there but it was just to please the old ones
Just to please the old ones, and I don’t know what to say.

On this little patch of dirt, on this little pile of stones
I can wash the dust from my arm, my face, my skin
But this earth is in my bones.

Tonight, as dark is falling, I am tending to my garden,
Tending to my garden, and it’s the crop that I have grown.
And my truck is heavy laden, and soon I’ll start the engine,
Soon I’ll start the engine, wake the children and be gone.

My shotgun it is loaded, it is hidden in the cabin,
Hidden in the cabin, and the evening’s got a chill.
And my mouth is dry, my hands are moist, and if someone tries to stop me,
Anyone tries to stop me, I am ready now to kill.

On this little patch of dirt, on this little pile of stones
I can wash the dust from my arm, my face, my skin
But this earth is in my bones.

Watering my garden, and I smell the cigarette smoke, 
Smell the cigarette smoke, and I turn round in the dusk
And I see the glint of rifles, but I cannot see their faces
But I recognise the voices that say, “You must come with us”.