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    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


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