While restin' one evening
by the side of the road,
I saw an old farmer in
a field he'd just hoed;
His face was all brown
and wrinkled by the wind,
And he was talkin' to the Lord,
just like he'd be talkin to a
friend.
Well sir, he said,
in a voice calm and quiet,
Them corn tassels need sackin',
but I got no string to tie it;
Had no rain in so long
that the fields are mighty dusty,
It's been so unbearable hot,
that the kids are even gettin'
fussy.
Now that grass down in the pasture
should be knee high,
If we could just have a little shower,
Lord, it might keep the cow from
goin' dry;
Ah, but listen to me talkin',
you'd think I wasn't grateful,
Why, if you didn't know me so well,
Lord, you'd think I was downright
hateful.
You'd think I'd forgot about
the new calf that you sent,
And the money in the mail
that took care of the rent;
Ma's cold's better and
Johnny's home from the Navy,
And that good Sunday dinner
of chicken, dumplins', and gravy;
The new preacher you sent us,
Lord, he sure is a fine young man,
Why, he's just convertin'
them sinners to beat the band!
Well, guess I'll be mosein' along,
Lord, won't take no more of Your
time,
Guess there's plenty of folks here abouts
waitin'
to ring your line;
Evenin'
to you Lord
and watch over us tonight;
And don't you worry about us none
Lord,
'cause everything's gonna be alright.