Sara Messenger © 1999
MAN:
This farm has been in my family since before the tractor’s roar
God forgive me, but I just can’t take it anymore
So I’ll climb into the combine and put an ending to my shame
And pray that my family can live for a while on my life insurance claim
WOMAN:
This morning was like any other as I made my rounds at dawn
God help me, but I just can’t tell you what I saw
So I’ll tell my sons a story and I’ll take myself to town
Wondering what’s gone wrong with a country
That can bring such a good man down
DUET:
This is the crop we’ve yielded, this is the seed we’ve sewn
This is the ugly harvest of a greed that’s overgrown
When the garden of Eden is something the few can own
This is the ugly harvest, this is the end of my home
This farm is more than property, it’s more than ends or means
It’s the earth that holds our history, it’s the trees that sheltered our dreams
It’s the wind that whispered promises, it’s the water that soothed our pain
This farm is more than a signature on a banker’s damn quitclaim
And you can’t hold her, for this country lives and breathes
You’ll never fence her in with all your words and deeds
America, if we sleep through the cock’s alarm
How can we ever save ourselves, if we cannot save this farm?
Oh, the rain beats down
Heaven help us now
This thought has been in my heart and mind
Since they came to take our land
God forgive me, but I know it’s time to take a stand
So I’ll ask you just one question: have we only ourselves to blame
If we don’t take it back from the highwaymen
That have soiled this good earth’s name
This is the crop we’ve yielded, this is the seed we’ve sewn
This is the ugly harvest of a greed that’s overgrown
America, if we sleep through the cock’s alarm
How will we ever face ourselves, if we will not save this farm?
