letra de harold wilson - fred eaglesmith
harold wilson is my name, son
why don’t you sit a spell
i live right here on the fergusson road
at the paradise motel
and though you do not know me
there’s a story i like to tell
it’s a story that i’m sure you know well
it’s a story that i’m sure you know well
i had me a place on thunder ridge
in a doomsday shack
my wife had left and took the kids
a couple of years back
and i spent most of my mornings
thinking about that
and my afternoons trying to figure out what to plant
i spent my afternoons trying to figure out what to plant
did you ever try to farm a farm
with a pick and a shovel
try to put a field into corn
just wouldn’t grow nothin’
starin’ down across the town
you wonder why i even bother
when up the road there’s a vacant room
climate control and colour
and you could stay there by the month for a hundred dollars
and you could stay there by the month for a hundred dollars
there wasn’t money in corn
and there wasn’t money in beans
they took my telephone, shut off my electricity
then a letter came in the mail
saying there’s taxes owed by me
if i was ever going to pay
well, i had three weeks
if i was ever going to pay
well, i had three weeks
did you ever try to farm a farm
with a pick and a shovel
try to put a field into corn
just wouldn’t grow nothin’
starin’ down across the town
you wonder why i even bother
when up the road there’s a vacant room
climate control and colour
and you could stay there by the month for a hundred dollars
and you could stay there by the month for a hundred dollars
well, they sold that farm to some fool for ten cents on the dollar
i saw him out there last week, i was on my way to visit my daughter
and that son of a gun was out there
trying to hook a windmill up to water
when he heard me laugh, well, he turned and i swear he hollered
when he heard me laugh, well, he turned, i swear he hollered
did you ever try to farm a farm
with a pick and a shovel
try to put a field into corn
just wouldn’t grow nothin’
starin’ down across the town
you wonder why i even bother
when up the road there’s a vacant room
climate control and colour
and you could stay there by the month for a hundred dollars
and you could stay there by the month for a hundred dollars
now the government cheques come down the pike
as regular as rain
and i sit outside most nights
‘cept when the june bugs drive me in
harold wilson is my name, son
why don’t you sit a spell
i live right here on the fergusson road
at the paradise motel
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