The Turkeys - Pulaski's Highway Lyrics

Well I'm up on Pulaski's Highway and the sun is going down
My hands are getting blacker from the cold and dirty ground
I'm up to my ears in onions crying over you
I'm sweating in the black dirt girl and that ain't nothing new
From generations past and gone we raise our corn fed pork
I'm just a black dirt farmer from New York

Well the work goes on all summer long my sleeves are rolled up high
Side by side us pollocks work under sunny skies
We sit around tell dirty jokes and rub our sweaty thighs
We're north of New York City and it's home to Polish guys
Oh I just love kielbasa I eat it with a fork
I'm just a black dirt farmer from New York