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Last of His Kind
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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


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