The Seed
©1987 Dakota Sid Clifford

I never heard no buffalo herds a-thunderin'
I guess it's something I might never see
But in the fields of Father Times' progression
We're never there to pick the crop
We only plant the seed

        And if that seed should fall upon some fertile mind
        Reaching out through the walls of time
        To read between the lines
        You know my only wish would be that we can break on through
        The barriers of you and bring the seed of truth to someone

Searching for a reason just to carry on
Through this world of self-destructive greed
But in the fields of Father Times' progression
We're never there to pick the crop
We only plant the seed