I've got a spade and a pick-axe   And a hundred miles square of land to churn about   My old horse is weary but sincerely   I believe that he can pull a plough      Well, I've moved into the jungle   Of the agriculture rumble to grow my own food   And I'll dig and plough and scrape the weeds   Till I succeed in seeing cabbage growing through      Now I'm a farmer, and I'm digging   Digging, digging, digging, digging   Now I'm a farmer, and I'm digging   Digging, digging, digging, digging      It's alarming how charming it is to be a-farming   How calming and balming the effect of the air      Well, I farmed for a year and grew a crop of corn   That stretched as far as the eye can see   That's a whole lot of cornflakes   Near enough to feed New York till 1973      Cultivation is my station and the nation   Buys my corn from me immediately   And holding sixty thousand bucks, I watch as dumper trucks   Tip New York's corn flakes in the sea      Now I'm a farmer, and I'm digging   Digging, digging, digging, digging   Now I'm a farmer, and I'm digging   Digging, digging, digging, digging      It's alarming how charming it is to be a-farming   How calming and balming the effect of the air      Now look here, son, the right thing to say   Isn't necessarily what you want to say   The right thing to do   Isn't necessarily what you want to do      The right things to grow   Ain't necessarily what you want to grow   Your own happiness   Doesn't necessarily teach you what you want to know      Well, I'm suntanned and deep, so's the horse   And my hands are deeply grained   Old horse is a-grazing, it's amazing   Just how lazily he took the strain      Well, my pick and spade are rusty   Because I'm paid on trust   To leave my square of cornfield bare      It's alarming how charming it is to be a-farming   How calming and balming the effect of the air      When you grow what I grow   Tomatoes, potatoes, stew, eggplants   Potatoes, tomatoes, gourds