(I won’t tell who)
a song, touching their vineyard—
a song, touching their vineyard—
planted upon a hill.
But the grapes it bore were wild,
so troopers laid it waste—
But the grapes it bore were wild,
so troopers laid it waste—
wild grapes of Palestine
trodden in the dust.
To spite my beloved’s vineyard,
trodden in the dust.
To spite my beloved’s vineyard,
ICE agents came and razed
its posts and trellises.
Now let me sing a song
its posts and trellises.
Now let me sing a song
to my beloved, touching their vineyard—
a desolated hearth,
a field sown with death,
a desolated hearth,
a field sown with death,
because it’s grapes were wild.
I am my beloved’s
and their desire is towards me.
We will drink of our vineyard.
I am my beloved’s
and their desire is towards me.
We will drink of our vineyard.
