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I've pruned all the apples And hauled brush away Manured the currants And seeded the hay Spring work is over And summer has come I sure hope this season Is better than some Chorus: It's hard, hard on my hard-working farm The apples are setting So mix up a spray Before the curculio Carts them away The scab and the cotton-moth Work busily They each choose an apple And leave one for me Chorus Boom goes the thunder And splash comes the rain "Fine for the famer" The city folks claim The orchard is flooded The corn's beaten down And the roof of the barn Is blown halfway to town Chorus The apples are scabby The currents have rot There isn't a pestilence We haven't got The grapes are all mildewed The cherries are too But I'm too darn busy To start feeling blue Chorus Here comes the buyer With tears in his eyes Telling so sadly His wonderful lies He lives in the poorhouse He goes almost bare The way we treat him It really ain't fair Chorus: He don't make no money He can't pay his rent His profit's a measly 400 per cent He's really an angel He's misunderstood So give him your shirt, boys, Like good farmers should Chorus Now harvest is over I ain't got a cent I'm calloused and sunburned My back's badly bent I'm just about ruptured My feet are so sore Sometime I wonder Just who I work for Chorus Please fill in the fields below and click SUBMIT to send it to your friend.
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