Golden Empire

 
The landscape changes every ten miles in each direction
Ranches and fields to the south and west
A brown panorama due to fracking in the north
And large farms to the east, leading to the mountains
To the southern tip of the Sierras

Although most of the town is flat
On the outskirts
The roads move up and down with the terrain
Where the land is open and wide

On the highways you can drive for miles
And see nothing but fields
You can see the migrant workers
Working under the hot summer sun
Working in the harshest weather conditions

When it snows in the Sierras, here the river flows
But with on and off again droughts
The river and waterways are dry
And so, we pray for rain

Every year, the city is growing, expanding outward
Slowly becoming a bigger metropolis
And little by little the fields slowly disappear