Thirty Years Of Farming by Fred Eaglesmith
Key: AA | Capo: 2fr |  Left-Handed 

    


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There's a little white note on the gate by the road that a man put up yesterday
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And when we saw it, we all ran out just to see what it had to say.
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And when we read it, our eyes filled with tears, and they fell to the cold, hard clay
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Something about a mortgage, something about foreclosure, something about failing to pay.
Oh, and on the post by the general store, they put up a little sign
An auction sale day after tomorrow at the end of the Lincoln Line
Thirty years of farming, thirty years of heartache, thirty years of day to day
Oh, my daddy stopped talking the day the farm was auctioned, there was nothing left to say.
Oh, my mama's tears fell freely down as she walked amongst the flowers in the yard
And every number the auctioneer called was like a blow to her precious heart
And every number the auctioneer called meant another thing was sold that day
'Til everything was auctioned, and we stood there watching as they loaded it and drove it away.
Chorus
At the day's first dawning, we awoke this morning, there was nothing for us to do,
Nothing in the granary, no hay in the mow, no cattle, no tractor, no tools.
So we loaded up the car, took the clothes that we wore and a few things we managed to save.
Mama read from the Book, we took one last look, and then we drove away.
Chorus
Oh, my daddy stopped talking the day the farm was auctioned, there was nothing left to say.