Sorry, this blog is currently shut down due to a lapse in federal government funding. It will resume once Congress restores funding.
A 3 a.m. calf on a frigid night — the farmer’s not shut down.
A harvest ready in the field — the farmer will be around.
For long days in the fall and late night care when livestock calls,
Despite aching backs or spirits that fall,
Farmer’s don’t shut down.
While bunch of blowhards in suits and ties,
Who shake your hand and smile then lie,
And debate debt ceilings (only to raise them),
Then shut it all down (‘cept for the guy who pays them),
Farmers don’t shut down.
They sweat and they toil in the sun and the soil,
Fix up stuff in the shop, change the tires, change the oil,
Farmers bale the hay when the sun is shining,
While politicians offer gridlock, hot air and whining.
And they then shut it down.
And teachers, police, firemen and clerks,
Accountants, doctors — they’re still at work.
Factory jobs, banking, construction keeps going,
Realtors, lawyers, and preachers aren’t slowing,
They haven’t shut things down.
So when November comes rolling around,
And you decide whom to send to Washington town,
Offer up a message that is sure to resound,