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