Red Dirt Farm
Copyright © 2006 | Aaron Traffas (BMI) and Chris Goering
G Am Beneath sunrise and a little bit left Em C there's not too much to tell about except for lawmakers and bankers like a street gang trying to push us out. The auctioneer keeps driving by; daddy said it would get this way. G Am But I'm just as proud of my Kansas farm Em D as I am of my last name. G D I spend my days fixing fence; Em C they question my significance. I work the land where I was born growing milo, wheat, and corn. G D Plow and plant and fertilize, Em D C cursed by the women, weeds and rye G D The only time I see the lights of town Em C Em D is on Friday nights when the sun goes down I'll work these fields until I'm dead, round and round the old homestead G D with callused hands and these two arms, C D G I'll never leave this red dirt farm. There's a long stretch of blacktop near the hollow I call home. There's eighty acres and a corner post my grandfather set long ago. The weak and rusty wires on the fence fall down while that post still stands. The cattle and the ground mean the world to me – as much as the family brand. G D Elevator girls make harvest worthwhile. Em C I pull across the scales and she gives me a smile. G D I watch her skinny legs in the mirror Em D C as she probes my load. G D She writes her age on the ticket. C D I'm back on the road.