Ain’t Farm Life Beautiful Verse 1 Rooster started hollerin’ quarter after four, Dog heard the rooster, started scratchin’ at the door. Pulled on my boots, stepped in somethin’ by the gate, Haven’t had my coffee and I’m already runnin’ late. Cows are at the fence line, starin’ holes right through my head, Actin’ like nobody on this farm has ever been fed. Haul another bucket, throw another bale, One old cow just kicked the trough and knocked me on my tail. Chorus Oh, ain’t farm life beautiful, Sunrise shining gold, Morning mist across the pasture, More precious than silver or gold. The simple life, the peaceful life, Away from city noise and harm— Lord, I thank You every morning For this beautiful life on the farm. Verse 2 Chickens need their breakfast, so I scatter out the feed, Forty little feathered pigs with forty kinds of greed. One hen’s in the feed sack, rooster’s chasin’ me, And somebody laid an egg where no egg oughta be. Gather up three dozen, drop about four, Find another twenty when I’m headed out the door. Wash ’em, sort ’em, carton ’em, then turn around and see— The chickens standing at the fence Like, “What you got for me?” Chorus Oh, ain’t farm life beautiful, Sunrise shining gold, Morning mist across the pasture, More precious than silver or gold. The simple life, the peaceful life, Away from city noise and harm— Lord, I thank You every morning For this beautiful life on the farm. Verse 3 Planted forty tomatoes ’cause a dozen seemed too few, melons and corn and peppers, planted green beans too. August rolled around and now I understand my sin— There’s tomatoes on the table And tomatoes comin’ in. Beans are by the bushel, okra by the ton, Zucchini reproduces when you turn your back and run. Every neighbor locks the door when they see my pickup come— ’Cause they know I’ve got zucchini, And they sure don’t want none! Chorus Oh, ain’t farm life beautiful, Green fields everywhere, Fresh food from the garden, Sweet country morning air. Living off the good earth, Safe and happy from all harm— Lord, there ain’t a better feeling Than this beautiful life on the farm. Verse 4 Then it’s time for cannin’, and the kitchen’s ninety-eight, Jars are in the pressure canner, supper’s running late. Tomatoes on the counter, green beans on the floor, There’s enough jelly in this house To last through World War Four. Grandma says, “We need more jars,” I say, “Where they gonna go?” She points toward another box— I really oughta know. By midnight we’re still working, And I’m begging for my bed— Then she walks in with another bucket: “Found more beans,” she said. Chorus Oh, ain’t farm life beautiful, Stars up in the sky, Fireflies across the meadow, And the moon is riding high. Homemade food upon the table, Country blessings by the arm— Lord, I wouldn’t trade for nothing This beautiful life on the farm. Verse 5 August feels like Hades, January freezes hell, Either way there’s chores to do, the animals are well. Cut the wood and split the wood and stack it in a row, ’Cause every stick you don’t put up You’ll miss when there’s snow. Chainsaw won’t get started, splitter’s outta gas, I bent down for another log and threw out half my back. Finally got the woodshed full, stood smiling at my wife— She said, “That might last till February.” I reconsidered life. Chorus Oh, ain’t farm life beautiful, Snow upon the ground, Wood stove softly cracklin’, Not another soul around. Warm and snug together, Safe from every winter storm— Lord, I wouldn’t trade for nothing This beautiful life on the farm. Bridge There’s always something broken, Always something needing fed, Something needs a fence fixed, Something else is nearly dead. Something’s digging up the garden, Something’s gotten through the gate, Something’s having babies— And they always start at two-oh-eight. We don’t take many vacations, We don’t sleep in anymore, And I can’t remember why I just walked into the barn. But when the evening settles And the work is finally through, I look across these fields we love And know one thing is true... Final Chorus Oh, ain’t farm life beautiful, Sunset burning red, Cattle grazing in the pasture, Chickens finally gone to bed. Garden feeds the family, Wood stove keeps us warm, Jars of summer line the shelves Through every winter storm. Yeah, my back hurts every morning, And there’s manure on my arm— But Lord, I wouldn’t trade a minute Of this beautiful life on the farm. Outro — Spoken “Well... maybe a minute.” (Cow moos.) “I JUST FED YOU!”
