cyclekeron.blogg.se

This land fed a nation this land made me so proudĪnd son I'm just sorry they're just memories for you now I feel like dying like that scarecrow in the rain I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name and some nights Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms Well there's ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard There'll be blood on the scarecrow blood on the plow When you take away a mans dignity he cant work his fields and cows Hey calling it your job ol hoss sure dont make it rightīut if you want me to Ill say a prayer for your soul tonightĪnd grandmas on the front porch swing with aīible in her hand Sometimes I hear her singing take me to the promised land He said john its just my job and I hope you understand The crops we grew last summer weren't enough to pay the loansĬouldn't buy the seed to plant this spring and the farmers bank foreclosedĬalled my old friend schepman up to auction off the land This land fed a nation this land made me proudĪnd son I'm just sorry theres no legacy for you now When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand I grew up like my daddy did my grandpa cleared this land Scarecrow on a wooden cross blackbird in the barnįour hundred empty acres that used to be my farm