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DEVIL TAKE THE FARMER (Dave Gordon) I am Orva Swanson; these are Swanson lands For pretty near one hundred and fifty years worked by Swanson hands Now the land boys want to buy me and I'd rather I was dead But hi-ho the dairy-o -- the farmer's in the red And the weather takes its toll The years take your life City takes the children Fever takes your wife The drought takes the wheat Bills take the beans And the devil take the farmer in the land of the big machines When Flora Mae was living, Lord, weren't we living high Had sausage, steak, and bacon, pudding, cake, and pie Now when I've got a cow down, the vet knows I can't pay Oh, I don't even have enough to put these bones away They don't know good from bad land They don't know corn from weeds They never use the houses They only use the deeds They use them as a tax dodge They use them as a shield And with half the stuff they hand you You could fertilize your field They don't care whose home they're taking They don't care whose land they grab They just sit out in the blazing sun In an air-conditioned cab They got a button saying Sow They got another saying Reap And the third one just says Money And it pours in while they sleep The farmer stands alone The farmer stands alone I don't even have enough to bury these old bones Bury these old bones Bury these old bones Hi-ho the dairy-o, the farmer stands alone @farm @industry @bitching filename[ DEVLTAKE JN apr96  8note Sheet |
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