My father is a farmer, His heart is in the soil It's there he finds his solace, Among the grimy toil. He plants the seed in springtime, The corn, pumpkins, the (soy)beans, the hay, He prays that God would bless it, A harvest, Lord, I pray. He tills and cultivates it, Provides the most tender care, Believes that come October, He'll reap a harvest fair. Blue skies are his cathedral, A tractor, his altar of prayer, God meets him in the cornfields, They have communion there. My father is a farmer- That's all he'll ever be. The values that the land taught him, He handed down to me. I love my farmer father- I'm thankful that he's mine... I pray that God would bless him, Today and for all time.