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Edited on Tue Jan-05-10 07:24 PM by Fumesucker
I'd be out in the cold with that guy if it weren't for my daughter and son in law helping me out and giving me a place to stay.
The men carrying out the guy's belongings reminded me of the song "Rain on the Scarecrow" by John Mellencamp..
Scarecrow on a wooden cross; blackbird in the barn; Four-hundred empty acres that used to be my farm. I grew up like my daddy did, my grandpa cleared this land; When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand.
Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow; This land fed a nation, this land made me proud; And, son, I'm just sorry there's no legacy for you now . . . Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow; Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow.
The crops we grew last summer weren't enough to pay the loans; Couldn't buy the seed to plant this spring and the Farmers Bank foreclosed. Called my old friend Schepman up to auction off the land; He said John it's just my job and I hope you understand. Hey, calling it your job, ol' hoss, sure don't make it right, But if you want me to I'll say a prayer for your soul tonight. And grandma's on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand; Sometimes I hear her singing "Take me to the Promised Land." When you take away a man's dignity, he can't work his fields and cows . . .
There'll be blood on the scarecrow, blood on the plow; Blood on the scarecrow, blood on the plow.
Well there's ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard— Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms. I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name, And some nights I feel like dyin', like that scarecrow in the rain.
Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow; This land fed a nation, this land made me proud; And, son, I'm just sorry they're just memories for you now . . . Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow; Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow.
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