Song Of The Land Poem by Thomas Golding

The grass dried up and blew away
the ground is cracked and bare
we can't get renewal on our loan
who'd be a winging farmer.

The local school is closing down
the kids have to go by bus
more expense we can't afford
who'd be a winging farmer.

The wool sales have moved away
we have to truck it fifty K's
prices don't recover cost
who'd be a winging farmer.

The local hospital shut down
the wife has to move to town
in case the baby's coming
who'd be a winging farmer.

We had to bring in water
to wash and feed the dogs
no way to get it to the stock
who'd be a winging farmer.

Our sheep are dying like the land
we've had enough there's nothing more
the bank can have the lot
who'd be a winging farmer.