I must have picked up these stanzas around 1960 -- I can't remember from whom.

I'm just a poorly lonesome traveller
Behind a mule that's powerful slow,
A-plowin' on to debt and worry,
The only place that I can go.

I'm goin' there . . .


My father lived and died a farmer
A-reapin' less than he did sow,
And I just follow in his footsteps
A-knowin' less than he did know.

I'm goin' there . . .

--- Joe Fineman    joe_f@verizon.net

||: What's _done_ we partly may compute, But know not what's _resisted_. :||