Old Rugged Tractor

A friend of mine has been asking if I would post this audio somewhere other than Instagram because apparently it sounds better through the computer with good headphones. So here it is. Lyrics below.

Rusted through is the seat of the old rugged tractor
That sits as a statue to the hard working man
From the rocking chair, creaking, his pipe smoke arises
The day, the daylight, the hours are gone

Once he was a man, proud and unyielding
The dirt and the rain were his only true friends
The tractor his war horse, the seeds were his gauntlet
The crops waved like victory flags in the end

The small patch of ground that carries his blood
Unmarked and unmarred less with greatest of care
Too weak now to ride his trusty old tractor
He watches it rust from his rocking chair

The land it is changed he cries out no one
For none but the tractor his words comprehend
His shouts are unheard o’er the din of the combines
Back in my day we would pick it by hand

The children who grew by the fruit of his working
Mow neat little lawns in suburbian bliss
And each farewell embrace that they give him 
Is naught but Judas Iscariot’s kiss

The day, the daylight, the hours are gone.
The night fast approaches when his work is done.
The farmer expires in his old chair alone.
And the tractor keeps watching unmoving as stone.