And then there it is the shout from below “Get up you slugs we have things to do and places to go” I leap out of bed toss on some clothes no need to be picky For we ain’t likely to see nobody this way today
The race down the stairs is on, only three brothers to beat Getting to the kitchen table to get a seat and grub to eat The smell of bacon permeates the air And mom is at the bottom stair to give a hug right there
As we chow down we all look around at each other Knowing full well the list and which one we druthers There’s tillin the garden with a ***, muckin the pens with its stench, Fence mendin with barb wire or ridein that metal steed named Deere
And on this day through luck of the draw or Dad’s decision I create furrow after furrow with precision and after awhile And many circles complete the mind tends to wander into a haze As you slide from side to side on that hard seat amidst a glaze
What will this fall harvest bring after the chores are complete A trip to the fair and rodeo to compete and there I will be the winner In that girl’s blue eyes as I lift up that grand prize She’ll notice me then, that pretty little thing and proudly wear my ring
The old John Deere will transform from a metal steed to a pickup I will need For those kids who will be taught to heed, respect their elders and lay seed We’ll live on a farm just like this one built on strong backs from generation To generation hoping to build a better nation