The Farmer and the Lord

While restin' one evening by the side of the road,
I saw an old farmer in a field he'd just hoed;

His face was all brown and wrinkled by the wind,
And he was talkin' to the Lord, just like he'd be talkin to a friend.

Well sir, he said, in a voice calm and quiet,
Them corn tassels need sackin', but I got no string to tie it;

Had no rain in so long that the fields are mighty dusty,
It's been so unbearable hot, that the kids are even gettin' fussy.

Now that grass down in the pasture should be knee high,
If we could just have a little shower, Lord, it might keep the cow from goin' dry;

Ah, but listen to me talkin', you'd think I wasn't grateful,
Why, if you didn't know me so well, Lord, you'd think I was downright hateful.

You'd think I'd forgot about the new calf that you sent,

And the money in the mail that took care of the rent;

Ma's cold's better and Johnny's home from the Navy,

And that good Sunday dinner of chicken, dumplins', and gravy;

The new preacher you sent us, Lord, he sure is a fine young man,
Why, he's just convertin' them sinners to beat the band!

Well, guess I'll be mosein' along, Lord, won't take no more of Your time,
Guess there's plenty of folks here abouts waitin' to ring your line;

Evenin' to you Lord and watch over us tonight;

And don't you worry about us none Lord,
'cause everything's gonna be alright.

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