neighbor! neighbor! harvest! harvest!. May your 40 soon be fields of clover. Yes, indeed, and plant a every seed and by and by The sun and will make an etching Of a little green fingers to the sky
neighbor! harvest!
Get your rocking chairs, for all your are over Clap your hands and your chaps, your bumper crops are on the climb. Hey, we're gonna roll in plenty, a five or ten or twenty, And those happy harvest are gonna chime. Remember when you work for mother nature you get paid by father time. Chicks are cackle and every burlap sack'll be full of taters and tobaccos And dozens of different good and healthey greens, and if the weatherman won't us Mister, you can bet us there'll be lots of crispy lettuce in your Full of tater! Crispy lettuce! Fresh tomatoes! Crispy in your jeans! Plant them to and find out just what livin' means neighbor! neighbor! harvest! Happy harvest! May your forty soon be fields of clover Yes indeed! *JANE* Go on puff your corncob pipes and no gripes and no more groans. No mortgages or loans and you see a trace of worryin' on the face of Farmer Jones neighbor! neighbor! harvest! Happy harvest! Get your rocking for all your cares are over. Hall-ay-loo! Clap your hands and lick your chops , your crops are on the climb. Hey, gonna roll in plenty. Spend a five or ten or twenty and those happy bells are gonna chime. Remember, neighbor, when your work for mother you get paid by father time!