If wheat gets up to seven bucks
I’ll hoard it, yessiree
Till the grain bin’s overflowin’
Or it gets back down to three.
There’s too much ridin’ on it
To sell it right away,
The banker might call in my note
They’re funny that-a-way.
As long as things are nip and tuck
They’ll let the balance ride.
Just pay the interest on it
And they’ll be satisfied.
They don’t like sudden changes
Conservatives, you see,
They like things they can count on
Like hail and CRP.
And if you look to go prosperous
Or friends think that you are
They’ll try and sell you somethin’
You’ve lived without, so far.
Like asphalt on the driveway
Or fancy silverware
Or a double-jointed tractor
‘Course, the preacher wants his share
No, there ain’t no use me gettin’ rich.
Knowin’ me, I’d spend it.
And borrow more for land and stock.
There’s plenty who would lend it.
I’m better off just gettin’ by
And stayin’ where I set
‘Cause the more that I make farmin’
The more I go in debt.
So, if wheat gets up to seven
I could sell it on the board
But I won’t. ‘Cause makin’ money’s
One thing I can’t afford.
It’s a different kind of logic
That allows a man to boast
When the richest farmer farmin’
Is the one that owes the most. ❖