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working on the land

My father grew up working, on a two-bit farm

At 12 year old, a long day, then sleeping in a barn

Those early years were desperate, when work was hard to find

But good old Mr. Tucker, was the easy-going kind

 

At such a young and tender age a boy, became a man

But to earn a plate of steamy grits had to work hard on the land

 

Mr. Tucker was a sweet old guy and with all his kinfolk gone

He gave my dad employment even treat him like a son

Come the end of every month, Mr. Tucker went to town

And always took my dad along to have a look around

 

At such a young and tender age a boy, became a man

But to earn a plate of steamy grits had to work hard on the land

 

When old Mr. Tucker passed away he left my dad his farm

Dad hadn’t grown much older then still sleeping in the barn

 

At such a young and tender age a boy, became a man

But to earn a plate of steamy grits had to work hard on the land

 

27.1.15

 

Jon Bek Darlington UK ©

jon bek · 33 days ago
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working on the land