Well I hate to say the farmer

Was the last of a dying breed

Living off the land

And taking what he needs

Don't say much for the future

When a family can't survive

I'd hate to say the farmer

Was the last of his kind.

In the struggle for parity

Not one man's voice can sound

Cause the foundation

of the conglomerate

Is firmly in the ground.

Yeah, they want to feed the world

But for power and for greed

Then they'll cut off the supply

Until they get what they need.

Well I dreamed I saw a dust bowl

Where the farmers used to live

Earth was flying through the sky

It had nothing left to give

Tractors were burning

On the Whitehouse lawn

Just woke up one morning

And the farmers all were gone

I hate to say the farmer

Was the last of a dying breed

Living off the land

And taking what he needs.

Don't say much for the future

When a family can't survive.

I'd hate to say the farmer

Was the last of his kind.

Don't say much for the future

When a family can't survive.

I'd hate to say the farmer

Was the last of his kind.