by Jim
Reeves
While restin' one evening by the side of the
road,
I saw an old farmer in a field he'd just
mowed;
His face was all brown and wrinkled by the
wind,
And he was talkin' to the Lord, just like he'd be talkin
to a friend.
Well, sir, he said, in a voice calm and
quiet,
Them corn tassels need sackin', but I got no string to
tie it;
Had no rain in so long that the fields are mighty
dusty,
It's been so unbearable hot, that the kids are even
gettin' fussy.
Now that grass down in the pasture should be
knee high,
If we could just have a little shower, Lord, it
might keep the cow from
goin' dry;
Ah, but listen to me
talkin', you'd think I wasn't grateful,
Why, if you didn't know
me so well, Lord, you'd think I was downright
hateful.
You'd think I'd forgot about the new calf that
you sent,
And the money in the mail that took care of the
rent;
Ma's cold's better and Johnny's home from the
Navy,
And that good Sunday dinner of chicken, dumplins', and
gravy;
The new preacher you sent us, Lord, he sure is a
fine young man,
Why, he's just convertin' them sinners to beat
the band!
Well, guess I'll be mosein' along, Lord, won't
take no more of Your time,
Guess there's plenty of folks here
abouts waitin' to ring your line;
Evenin' to you Lord and
watch over us tonight;
And don't you worry about us none
Lord,
'cause everything's gonna be
alright.