One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Five! (Laughs) Tickles me. I'll tell you why. Oh, there's a funny farm down the
We've been up here in this city Livin' in the grease and grime Girl, it's a doggone pity We ain't been gettin' anytime I've been preachin' 'bout back
Every Friday night there's a steady cloud of dust That leads back to a field filled with pickup trucks Got old Hank cranking way up loud Got coolers in
With baited breath and open arms I passed the gates of an old junkyard It was a truck farm with crops of trucks I laid down cash and I picked one up
Well, I wonder how the old folks are at home I wonder if they'll miss me when I'm gone? I wonder if they pray for their boy who went away And left his
Well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more Well, I wake up in the morning, fold my hands and pray for
Workin' on a sex farm Tryin' to raise some hard love Gettin' out my pitch fork Pokin' your hay Scratchin' in your hen house Sniffin' at your feedbag
To this vast wasteland We will set a flame This is the beginning of our Burning Farm Smoke is rising to the sky And you and I beat the drum To the earth
What can I say but I miss the farm And all the baby animals in the barn The flowers that grow, planting beans in a row And waking in the morning to a
Looking back a hundred years On daughters and sons of the land Who're standing here, holding a fistful of dirt Watching it slip through my hands See
Let me tell you about the farm, all my friends are in the barn Barn life, farmer's wife, don't you make me say it twice Sunny days, bale and hay, go to
His cows get loose and run Right through the fast food parking lots And Daddy gets calls from the mini-malls When they're downwind from his hogs When
There's a piggy waitin' outside my door Who's a knockin' and a yellin' that he's gonna use force Well, I moved to town just a while ago And I got in a
I ain't gonna' work on Maggie's farm no more I ain't gonna' work on Maggie's farm no more Well i wake up in the morning, put my hands and pray for rain
My parents knew these people who For all their faults were very nice; They owned a farm whose "Olde Worlde" charm Earned it the name of "Paradise". We
We've got a farm, a barn of a farm Right in the middle of a swamp There ain't any charm in our little farm Right in the middle of the swamp Now nothing
For every life I take, an ecosystem I create Blood and guts consumes my life I am the ?brutal gardener? I - ?quantity controller? ?no more insane than
as you walk out of the valium of death, a sad feeling limps around your brain, funny farmers sowing seeds of discontent, pumping nerve gas around unfeeling