Fred Eaglesmith Follow

There's a little envelope on the table unopenedHe already knows what it saysHe's known it for yearsStill his hands shook with fear When he picked it up in town yesterdayIt ain't like it seemsYou can't run a farm on dreamsStill he thought they might let him carry onCarry on 'till the dream is even goneAnd he'd go out to ploughBut the tractor's broken downThe day is almost spent, anywayHe pours himself a drinkSets on the porch to thinkWhatever are the neighbours going to sayDrinking don't take the placeThe banker does with an empty faceHe tells you 'bout a job up the roadLeave the keys in the mailbox when you goThere's a patch on the north sideIt's early and it's dryIt's probably the best there is aroundBut when they sell it offThey won't even bring it upHell, who cares anymore about the groundSome sour face city kid's lawyer puts in the bid For a run down, tax shelter hobby farmWho's to blame anybody, anymoreAnd he'd go out and ploughBut the tractor's broken downThe day is almost spent, anywayHe pours himself a drinkSets on the porch to thinkWhatever are the neighbours going to sayDrinking don't take the placeThe banker does with an empty faceHe tells you 'bout a job up the roadLeave the keys in the mailbox when you go It's a good thing she ain't hereTo see the bitter tearsSpill down his coveralls on to the floorIt's a good thing she ain't aliveTo see how they've taken his prideAnd turned it like a crop beneath the soilGod bless this house the kitchen saysAnd even when the bills aren't paidBe thankful for the things that you haveEven just the shirts on your backsAnd he'd go out and ploughBut the tractor's broken downThe day is almost spent, anywayHe pours himself a drinkSets on the porch to thinkWhatever are the neighbours going to sayDrinking don't take the placeThe banker does with an empty faceHe tells you 'bout a job up the roadLeave the keys in the mailbox when you goLeave the keys in the mailbox when you go