Well I hate to say the farmer   Was the last of a dying breed   Living off the land   And taking what he needs   Don't say much for the future   When a family can't survive   I'd hate to say the farmer   Was the last of his kind.      In the struggle for parity   Not one man's voice can sound   Cause the foundation   of the conglomerate   Is firmly in the ground.   Yeah, they want to feed the world   But for power and for greed   Then they'll cut off the supply   Until they get what they need.      Well I dreamed I saw a dust bowl   Where the farmers used to live   Earth was flying through the sky   It had nothing left to give   Tractors were burning   On the Whitehouse lawn   Just woke up one morning   And the farmers all were gone      I hate to say the farmer   Was the last of a dying breed   Living off the land   And taking what he needs.   Don't say much for the future   When a family can't survive.   I'd hate to say the farmer   Was the last of his kind.      Don't say much for the future   When a family can't survive.   I'd hate to say the farmer   Was the last of his kind.