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 these great lands   But 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 farming them   Banks back then was lending money   The banker was the farmer's friend   I've seen dogs day, dusty days   Last spring snows and early fall sleets   Held the leather reigns in my hand    And felt the soft ground under my feet   Between the hot dry weather, the taxes and the Cold War   Its been hard to make ends meat   But I always put the clothes on our backs   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 suburbia   And look out across these empty fields   And i sit here in earshot of the by pass   And all night i listen to the rushing of the wheels      The big boys, they all got computers   They got incorporated to   Me, i just know how to raise things   Thats 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 nothing   Simply for the love of it   Went into town on the fourth of july   Watched them parade past the union jack   Watched them break out the brass, beat on the drum   One step forward and two steps back   Saw a sign on easy street said be prepared to stop   Pray for the independent little man   I don't see next years crop   And I sit here on the backporch in the twilight   And I hear the crickets hum   And I sit and watch the lighting in the distance   But the showers never come   And I sit here listen to the wind blow   And I sit here and rub my hands   And I sit here and listen to the clock strike   And I wonder when i'll see my companion again