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