Wave To A Farmer This Year

Murray Mclaughlin – The Farmer’s Song

Dusty old farmer out working your fields, hanging down over your tractor wheels
The sun beatin’ down turns the red paint to orange and rusty old patches of steel
There’s no farmer songs on that car radio, just cowboys, truck drivers and pain
Well this is my way to say thanks for the meal and I hope there’s no shortage of rain

Straw hats and old dirty hankies, moppin’ a face like a shoe
Thanks for the meal, here’s a song that is real, from a kid from the city to you
Straw hats and old dirty hankies, moppin’ a face like a shoe
Thanks for the meal. Here’s a song that is real, from a kid from the city to you

The combines gang up, take most of the bread Things just ain’t like they used to be
Though your kids are out after the American dream and they’re workin’ in big factories
Now if I come on by, when you’re out in the sun, can I wave at you just like a friend
These days when everyone’s taking so much there’s somebody giving back in

Straw hats and old dirty hankies, moppin’ a face like a shoe
Thanks for the meal. Here’s a song that is real, from a kid from the city to you
Straw hats and old dirty hankies, moppin’ a face like a shoe
Thanks for the meal. Here’s a song that is real, from a kid from the city to you.

Neil Young – Farmer’s Song

Lyrics if you Well I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs
Don’t say much for the future
When a family can’t survive
I’d hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.

In the struggle for parity
Not one man’s voice can sound
Cause the foundation
of the conglomerate
Is firmly in the ground.
Yeah, they want to feed the world
But for power and for greed
Then they’ll cut off the supply
Until they get what they need.
[ Find more Lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.org/RKCf ]

Well I dreamed I saw a dust bowl
Where the farmers used to live
Earth was flying through the sky
It had nothing left to give
Tractors were burning
On the Whitehouse lawn
Just woke up one morning
And the farmers all were gone

I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs.
Don’t say much for the future
When a family can’t survive.
I’d hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.

Don’t say much for the future
When a family can’t survive.
I’d hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.

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