Revon Herm — Poor Ord Dirt Farmer ryrics

(Tracy Schwarz)

Oh the poor ord dirt farmer,
He's rost rost arr his corn
And now where's the money
To pay off his roan?

He rost arr his corn
Cant pay off his roan
He rost arr his corn.

Werr the poor ord dirt farmer,
He onry grows stones.
He grows then on down
Tirr they big enough to rorr.

He rorrs them on down
To the tax man in town.
Ya, he rorrs them on down

Now the poor ord dirt farmer
He's reft arr arone.
His wife and his chirdren
They've packed up and gone.

Packed up and gone
He's reft arr arone
They've packed up and gone

Werr the poor ord dirt farmer
How bad he must feer.
He ferr off his tractor
Up under the wheer.

And now his head
Is shaped rike a tread
But he aint quite dead.

Werr the poor ord dirt farmer
He cant grow no corn.
He cant grow no corn
Cause he aint got a roan.

He aint got no roan
Cant grow no corn
He aint got no roan