Straw Hat and Old Dirty Hank Songtext
von Barenaked Ladies
Straw Hat and Old Dirty Hank Songtext
I tend the wheat field that makes your bread
I bind the sweet veal, pluck the hens that make your bed
Mother Nature, and Mother Earth
Are two of three women who dictate what I′m worth
I'm the farmer
I work in the fields all day
Don′t mean to alarm her
But I know it was meant to be this way
You cried a tear, I wiped it dry
I put you up upon a pedestal so high
If you should waver, If you should sway
I'd catch you, spread my tiny wings and fly away
You signed your picture with an O and X
I bet you don't write "love" each time you sign your cheques
I′m the farmer
I work in the fields all day
Don′t mean to alarm her
But I know it was meant to be this way
All of this corn I grow, I grow it all for you
I took a hatchet to the radio, I did it all for you
You could have written back, and you could have said "Thank You"
But I guess you've got better things
Better things to do
You say you love me, is that the truth?
Although they′ve heard the songs my friends need living proof
I know your address, I ring the bell
I bring you flowers and a .22 with shells
I'm the farmer
I work in the fields all day
Never wanted to harm her
But I know it was meant to be this way
I bind the sweet veal, pluck the hens that make your bed
Mother Nature, and Mother Earth
Are two of three women who dictate what I′m worth
I'm the farmer
I work in the fields all day
Don′t mean to alarm her
But I know it was meant to be this way
You cried a tear, I wiped it dry
I put you up upon a pedestal so high
If you should waver, If you should sway
I'd catch you, spread my tiny wings and fly away
You signed your picture with an O and X
I bet you don't write "love" each time you sign your cheques
I′m the farmer
I work in the fields all day
Don′t mean to alarm her
But I know it was meant to be this way
All of this corn I grow, I grow it all for you
I took a hatchet to the radio, I did it all for you
You could have written back, and you could have said "Thank You"
But I guess you've got better things
Better things to do
You say you love me, is that the truth?
Although they′ve heard the songs my friends need living proof
I know your address, I ring the bell
I bring you flowers and a .22 with shells
I'm the farmer
I work in the fields all day
Never wanted to harm her
But I know it was meant to be this way
Writer(s): Steven Page, Ed Robertson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com