Thoreau:
We will make sure tobacco production comes to a halt
We shall pour on our polluted land twelve trucks full of salt
The chemical waste planted in the dirt already shows who's at fault
Farmer Neil:
Tobacco bamboozled us out of our land
Forced into a situation we couldn't understand
Where our lives we mistrusted in their command
We've poisoned Mother Earth
And she can now no longer give birth
We mistook her and what she's worth
Thoreau:
So the salt is for the mourning of the unborn
A reminder to us what we've yet to learn
And until the day we do we are doomed and forlorn
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