Words & music by steven page & ed robertson
I tend the wheat field that makes your bread.
I bind the sweet veal, pluck the hens that make your bed.
Mother nature & mother earth
Are two of three women who dictate what i'm worth
Chorus:
I'm the farmer.
I work in the fields all day.
Don't mean to alarm her,
But i know it was meant to be this way.
You cried a tear, i wiped it dry
I put you up upon a pedestal so high
If you should waiver, if you should sway
I'd catch you, spread my tiny wings and fly away.
You signed your picture with an o and x
I bet you don't write "love" each time you sign your cheques.
Chorus
All of this corn i grow i grow it all for you
I took a hatchet to the radio i did it all for you
You could have written back,
You could have said "thank you"
I guess you've got better things,
Better things to do.
You say you love me, is that the truth?
Although they've heard the songs, my friends want living proof.
I know your address, i ring the bell
I bring you flowers and a .22 with shells.
I'm the farmer
I work in the fields all day
Never wanted to harm her
But i know it was meant to be this way.