There was sun in a field full of pickers and carts
Far from your home and its island stars
Doing time with your back bent, the Canadian sky
Shining down promises, lullabyes
Work while your kids grow up far away
Walking those same weary miles
Chasing that cash and the price you pay
While we reap the fruits in our grocery isles
Things go on in St. Lucia when you disappear
The first few months stretch into thirty years
You're bunked eight to a room and they dock all your checks
For rights and protections that you don't get
And some of those farmers take more and more
From sisters to frightened to speak
Masters and servants and bolted doors
And now you grow older, the next season looms up ahead
And as for us, well we make it quite clear
There's only one way you're crossing our borderlines
They're right here, and you can't see it
But we're building up walls at our borderlines
All the battlements of class and the colour lines
And you're doing hard time
Work while your kids grow up far away
Walking those same weary miles
Chasing that cash and the price you pay
While we reap the fruits in our grocery isles
And as for us, well we make it quite clear
There's only one way you're crossing our borderlines
They're right here, and you can't see it
But we're building up walls at our borderlines
All the battlements of class and the colour lines
And you're doing hard time