If they
take away my farm,
if they pull me off the plow,
tell me who will feed the people,
the hell the banker don't know how
it's all pages in a mystery
that he'll never understand
tell me who will feed the people
if they put me off my land
if they're calling all my loans
if they call the auctioneer
Tell me who will bring the crops in
with no farm folks living here?
Will the bank run the combine?
Will the agent bail the hay?
Tell me who will be the people
if they take my farm away?
When my great -granddaddy Jacob,
ninety -seven years ago,
Broke this sod behind to oxen,
broke his back to make it grow,
Taught his sons by his example,
as they taught their sons in turn,
What this topsoil had to teach him,
my great -granddaddy tried to learn.
If they put us on the road,
if they tell us we must go,
Who will come to take our
places?
Who'll know half the things
we know?
Who'll know every inch of topsoil
as it trickles through the hand?
Tell me who will be the people
if they put me off my land?
When my great -granddaddy, J .K.
Ninety -seven years ago,
broke this side behind two oxen,
broke it back to make it grow.
Taught his sons by his example,
as they taught their sons in turn.
What this topsoil had to teach him,
great -granddaddy tried to learn.
If they take away my farm,
if they pull me off the plow
Tell me who will feed the people,
hell, think I don't know how
It's all pages in a mys tery
that you'll never understand
Tell me who will feed the people
if they put me off my land
And it's our fate to tell a mystery
that he'll never understand
Tell me who will be the people
if they put me off my land