Oops, forgot this one. A real tear jerker Dearest Martha words & music by John McCutcheon Dearest Martha, when you find this, there'll be nothing you can do To change the way our lives have turned out, it's not up to me and you All the bills are paid through New Years, all the notes are in the drawer The insurance ought to help, I wish I could have left you more Now, no one could call me lazy and I know that I ain't dumb And no one in this valley knew these awful times would come As the costs keep climbing higher, the prices never rise While our mouths are filled with questions they just fill our ears with lies That banker I made wealthy just ten short years ago Now sits across his pin-striped desk politely saying "No" Men who've never known a hard time or soiled their soft white hands Turn farmers into failures and drive us from our lands In years to come there'll be the stories, such tales they're sure to tell: "A fourth generation farmer, and he let it go to hell!" I know that I'm a good man, but I never can forget There's nothing left to leave the children but a thousand acre debt But I read it in the papers and I see it on TV How everything is back on track, what the hell is wrong with me? I've worked as hard as any man to bring the ground to grain But each September brings the harvest, the heartache and the blame So, Martha, lay me in the orchard underneath the flowering plum And face me to the east so I can see the rising sun And remember when the days were young and happy ones for me And the land was ripe with promises as far as I could see... So sorry this is true...
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