I used to work for Harvester
  I used to use my hands
  I used to make the tractors and the
  combines that plowed and harvested this
  great land
  Now I see my handiwork on the block
  everywhere I turn
  And I see the clouds cross the weathered
  faces and I watch the harvest burn
  I quit the plant in '57
  Had some time for farmin' then
  Banks back then was lendin' money
  The banker was the farmer's friend
  And I've seen dog days and dusty days;
  Late spring snow and early fall sleet;
  I've held the leather reins in my hands
  and I've felt the soft ground under my feet
  Between the hot, dry weather and the taxes
  and the Cold War it's been hard to make
  ends meet
  But I always kept the clothes on out backs;
  I always put the shoes on our feet
  My grandson, he comes home from college
  He says, "We get the government we
  deserve."
  My son-in-law just shakes his head and says,
  "That little punk, he never had to serve."
  And I sit here in the shadow of the suburbs
  and look out across these empty fields
  I sit here in earshot of the bypass and all
  night I listen to the rushin' of the wheels
  The big boys, they all got computers:
  got incorporated, too
  Me, I just know how to raise things
  That was all I ever knew
  Now, it all comes down to numbers
  Now I'm glad that I have quit
  Folks these days just don't do nothin'
  simply for the love of it
  I went into town of the Fourth of July
  Watched 'em parade past the Union Jack
  Watched 'em break out the brass and beat
  on the drum
  One step forward and two steps back
  And I saw a sign on Easy Street,
  said "Be Prepared to Stop."
  Pray for the Independent , little man
  I don't see next year's crop
  And I sit here on the back porch in the
  twilight
  And I hear the crickets hum
  I sit and watch the lightning in the distance
  but the showers never come
  I sit here and listen to the wind blow
  I sit here and rub my hands
  I it here and listen to the clock strike,
  and I wonder when I'll see my
  companion again