Winter Wheat

I seem to have lost my patience

Waiting for the clouds of dust the custom cutters bring

The foreman called to say he would be here any day

With his convoy of threshing machines

Now what would make a man make a promise he can't keep?

A custom cutter crew could clear this harvest in a week

While me on my John Deere would take more than a year

To lay down this harvest of winter wheat

Winter, winter wheat

The grain is groaning on the stem

When the custom cutter comes and the harvest is in

Perhaps I'll find my patience again

I allow as how I have my own frustrations

I was counting on this crop to lay my mortgage down

And I admit that there's a limit to my patience

But damn it all to hell, they should have been here by now

It's a hundred days preparing the fields

And it's a million seeds you sow and scare a thousand hungry crows

But when the harvest moon is in it takes just one cold rainy day

To watch it all get washed away