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... mmmm... Potatoes, tomatoes... ha-ha! Gourds...