The Farming Game

Winter time Dad came home
Dirty diesel and rust
Pearly whites like diamonds
Smiling through the dust
Yummy mutton and pumkin
For a hungry gutted crew
We knew Mum loved us all to death
And we all loved her too
Well I couldn’t wait to walk in my old, man's shoes
And what more could I ask
To head off with my biscuit tin
Black Tea in a thermos flask
To learn to plough a real straight line
And learn to be alone
In ever diminishing circles
Solve problems on my own
Now it’s considered normal
To pass your acres down
But if you’ve got more children
Well you try to buy more ground
So you borrow heaps of money
Just to give your kids a go
After all that’s said and done
You taught them all you know
Now there were days we nearly sold
With frost and then a drought
Easier ways to make a quid
Would sort the young ones out
They say it builds your character
Good women and good men
Who turn around when the crop has failed
And sow it all again
So hold on tight you cockies
I know the feeling well
If you couldn’t save the family farm
Then you’d rather go to Hell
No one will share your burden
No one will share the blame
And my heart goes out to the familes
of The Farming Game