Well I hate to say the farmer
  Was the last of a dying breed
  Living off the land
  And taking what he needs
  Don't say much for the future
  When a family can't survive
  I'd hate to say the farmer
  Was the last of his kind.
    In the struggle for parity
  Not one man's voice can sound
  Cause the foundation
  of the conglomerate
  Is firmly in the ground.
  Yeah, they want to feed the world
  But for power and for greed
  Then they'll cut off the supply
  Until they get what they need.
    Well I dreamed I saw a dust bowl
  Where the farmers used to live
  Earth was flying through the sky
  It had nothing left to give
  Tractors were burning
  On the Whitehouse lawn
  Just woke up one morning
  And the farmers all were gone
    I hate to say the farmer
  Was the last of a dying breed
  Living off the land
  And taking what he needs.
  Don't say much for the future
  When a family can't survive.
  I'd hate to say the farmer
  Was the last of his kind.
    Don't say much for the future
  When a family can't survive.
  I'd hate to say the farmer
  Was the last of his kind.