every year in the summer
my mom would plant a big garden
and I’d come home from school and I’d pull weeds

no matter how long I picked them
no matter how many rows I did
I’d turn around and there’d be lots more weeds

there were weeds and weeds and weeds and weeds
and weeds and weeds and weeds and weeds
corn and weeds and potatoes and weeds
and weeds and weeds and weeds

well every year in the summer
my mom would plant a big garden
and I swear those rows had to be 200 feet long

I’d drag myself through the mud and dust
I’d come home from school on the bus
she’d point her finger at the garden and she’d say weed

there were weeds and weeds and weeds and weeds
and weeds and weeds and weeds and weeds
corn and weeds and potatoes and weeds
and weeds and weeds and weeds

at night I’d lay in bed tired
I’d try to count sheep like some kids
I’d close my eyes and all I’d see was weeds

there’d be spiky ones, furry ones, green ones, juicy ones
ones that itch, some that blow, some are soft, don’t you know
it took all I had not to count weeds

but then after we’d go back to school
and the summer sun was getting cool
we’d start hauling in all our stuff

well the roots go in the cellar
frozen veggies and jars of pickles
maybe pulling all those weeds wasn’t so tough

there were weeds and weeds and weeds and weeds
and weeds and weeds and weeds and weeds
corn and weeds and potatoes and weeds
and weeds and weeds and weeds