The Farmer

What will we do when the last farmer bites the dust,

And we're all left with nothing to eat?

When the last tractors and combines have gone to rust,

And you can buy neither bread nor meat?

Tell me then, what are we going to eat?

When there are no more pastures to graze,

No more fields to cultivate, tend or plant,

No more chickens, pigs, goats or cattle to raise?

With these things gone, ways to make a living will be scant.

Can you explain where the food will come from, I can't.

The farmer is the backbone of this world.

Without the farmer we can not survive.

If the farms and farmers disappear,

There soon will be no one alive.

Can the politicians pull the answers from their nether places?

Do you suppose megabytes will satisfy our bellies?

Will cookies and data fill the empty spaces?

Maybe turn our phones and games into jams and jellies?

That sounds far from filling and a little smelly.

We need to insure that farmers and farms don't fade away,

And keeps right on producing the food that sustains us.

If we don't there will come that dreaded day,

When a very disgusted God will completely forsake us,

After we have squandered what he left in our trust.

The farmer is the backbone of this world.

Without the farmer we can not survive.

If the farms and farmers disappear,

There soon will be no one alive.

We all depend on farmers.

God, please bless the farmers.