Now I'm not so much at singin
as those falutin chaps.
My voice it may be husky
and a little loud perhaps.

For I have been out plowing
with a lazy team you see.
And its kept me pretty busy
with giddap, whoa, haw and gee.

But if you'll pay attention
I've just a word to say.
About a great mistake
you make and make it everyday.



In dealing out yer praises,
I'm sure you will allow.
Too often you forget
about the man behind the plow.

You talk about yer learned men
with wit and wisdom rare.
Yet poets and yer painters
they get praises everywhere.

Now yer music, painting,
and poetry may all be hard to beat.
But tell me what you are going to do
for something good to eat?



My hands are hard,
my clothes are coarse.
I make a good companion
for the oxen or the horse.

Tis true I will allow,
but the greatest of the great man.
Is the man behind the plow.

Now I like yer great inventions, 
and I'm glad yer getting' smart.
I like to hear yer music
for it kinda stills my heart.



Well its all great entertainment, 
but tell me if you can.
How it will ever touch the stomach
of a real hungry man?

Now you idolizes yer great sport stars, 
and build a great sky dome.
While a million little children 
have no place to call their home.

Now yer football and yer hockey 
and yer baseball may be fine.
But don't you think those salaries 
are a little out of line?



Games were always fine enough 
to while some time away.
But it costs far too much money 
to watch them everyday.

Yes its nice enough to have these things, 
but will you tell me now.
This world will ever do 
without the man behind the plow.

So don't be in a hurry 
to spurn the good old farm.
Yer older folks are failing, 
soon they'll need your youthful arm.


 
© Justa Plowman ... Gordon Riehl