THE GREAT AMERICAN FARMER
By Ralph Harrison, 1975, 4 minutes, 30 seconds|
Through the heartland of America he travels, Through the summer sun, the winter snow and rain, With the golden grain a’flowin’ and the big combines’ a’rollin’ Always movin’ with the harvest of our land. Proud of living free and proud of this great country, As he looks out from beneath his suntanned brow, Reachin’ out to feed the people of America, the world, Movin’ to the beat of his own country drum. He’s everywhere in this great land, He holds the good earth in his hands, He’s a friend; He’s the Great American Farmer. You’ll find him on his way to the field before the hot summer sun touches the morning. He’ll still be out there with the last daylight workin’ that piece of ground that lives in his mind forever it’s a permanent part of his soul. You’ll find him pumpin’ fuel into his tractor or settin’ posts for his electric fence to keep his cattle in. You’ll find him cuttin’ cane in Oklahoma; pickin’ cotton in Texas; bailin’ hay in Indiana, New York and California; cuttin’ wheat in Kansas and the Dakotas; an’ combining corn in Iowa, Nebraska and the Carolinas. He’s got dirt on his big calloused hands, a sweat stained straw hat, a heart as big as this big land he works. He’s got a country girl for a wife; kids like everybody else. You’ll find him in town visitin’ on Saturday afternoon; sittin’ in church on Sunday morning. He listens to the world through his radio and TV and he is always at the mercy of the weather that guides his fortunes forever. He’s humble. He loves his neighbors. He knows what friendship really means. He’s a good man. He loves this great country of ours. He knows the pride of standing at the end of a field looking at the even furrows that move out to the end of the world; watching that bumper crop stretch up to touch the sky. He knows the beauty of a soft gentle rain and how to break that top crust so that mother earth can enjoy a refreshing drink. You’ll find him sweatin’ from the hot summer sun and the exhaust from his big four wheeler. An’… sometimes you’ll see him crying inside as he looks out on the hail stripped stalks that put his whole year’s work to death… the night before he was to have reaped the harvest of his dreams. You’ll find him leanin’ on the kitchen table late in the evening, weary from the labors of the day; happy that his farm is bedded down for another night. He’s got dirt on his face and his hair is mussed. His shirt unbuttoned and his shoes off, a glass of iced tea in his hand, and he’s layin’ down a few soft words to his wife about the country, the politicians and next year. You can count on him when the chips are down; his word is his bond and his honor. In the wintertime, you’ll find him out in the shed working on his tractor, combine or one-way; getting ready for the springtime and the long hard summer ahead. He knows the excitement that comes from watching the yellow school bus kick up dust as it moves down a country road with a load of happy kids. He lives knowing that his crops could burn up in the summer sun or his house burn down on a winter’s night and help could never get there in time. You’ll find him on a winter evening sittin’ by the fire with his hands wrapped around a hot cup of coffee. Yes, he’s more than a friend. He’s the Great American Farmer. He takes time to thank the Lord on Sunday morning, He finds beauty in the gentle springtime rain, He believes in this great country And his neighbors and his friends, And he knows just where America begins. He’s every where in this great land, He holds the good earth in his hands, He’s a friend; He’s the Great American Farmer. He’s a friend; He’s the Great American Farmer. He’s a friend; He’s the Great American Farmer. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Remastered on CD in February, 2003, by |
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If you'd like to download a short MP3 clip of the song, click HERE. |
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