| Me and the farmer get on fine
|
| Through stormy weather and bottles of wine
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| If I pull my weight, he’ll treat me well
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| But if I’m late, he’ll gi-i-ve me hell
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| And though it’s all hard work, no play
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| Farmer is a happy crook
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| Jesus hates him every day
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| 'Cause Jesus gave and farmer took, took
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| (Won't he let you go?) Probably no
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| (Won't he let you go?) Probably no
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| (Why does he treat you so?) I just don’t know
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| (Why does he treat you so?) I just don’t know
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| Me and the farmer, like brother, like sister
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| Getting on like hand and blister
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| Me and the farmer…
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| He’s chopped down sheep, planted trees
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| And helped the countryside to breathe
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| Ripped up fields, bullied flocks
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| And worked his workers right around the clock
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| It may seem strange, but he’d admit
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| Intentions aren’t exactly true
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| And though God loves his wife a bit
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| He hates the farmer through and through, through
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| All things bright and beautiful
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| All creatures great and small
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| All we’ve got is London Zoo
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| 'Cause farmer owns them all, all
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| Me and the farmer
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| Me and the farmer… |