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