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



CHORUS:

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