Taxes on the Farmer Feeds Us All - Ry Cooder

We worked through Spring and Winter, through Summer and through Fall

But the mortgage worked the hardest and the steadiest of us all

It worked on nights and Sundays, it worked each holiday

Settled down among us and it never went away

The farmer comes to town with his wagon broken down

The farmer is the man who feeds us all

If you only look and see I know you will agree

That the farmer is the man who feeds us all

The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man

He buys on his credit until Fall

Then they take him by the hand

And they lead him from his land

And the merchant is the man who gets it all

The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man

He lives on his credit until Fall

With the interest rates so high

It's a wonder he don't die

But the taxes on the farmer feeds us all

Well, the banker says he's broke and the merchant stops and smoke

But they forget that it's the farmer that feeds them all

It would put them to the test if the farmer took a rest

And they'd know that it's the farmer that feeds them all

The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man

Lives on his credit until Fall

Well, his pants are wearing thin

His condition, it's a sin

'Cause the taxes on the farmer feeds us all