For Every Farmer

dark ballad, Irish folk, traditional folk-inspired haunting

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V5.5

“For Every Farmer”

Verse 1
From the red dirt roads to the fields of green,
From frozen hills to the dry ravine,
There’s a hand on a gate in the morning light,
And a heart that has carried the world through the night.

Before the cities wake, before engines start,
There’s a farmer out there with a faithful heart.
With cracked old hands and a weathered face,
Feeding strangers he will never embrace.

He plants in hope.
He works through pain.
He prays for sun.
He prays for rain.
And when the world sits down to eat,
They forget the soil beneath their feet.

Chorus
So stand, every farmer, everywhere,
Through the dust, through the cold, through the weight you bear.
You are the hands that keep us alive,
The roots of the world, the reason we survive.
When they break your back and call it fair,
When they take your voice and say they care,
Know this truth when the night gets long:
Without the farmer, the world is gone.

Verse 2
There’s a mother watching clouds roll by,
Counting every debt beneath the sky.
There’s a father fixing steel with wire,
Too tired to sleep, too proud to tire.
There’s a son learning how to sow,
There’s a daughter watching cattle grow,
There’s a family built on sacrifice,
Paying for tomorrow with today’s price.

And still they blame the farmer’s name,
For hunger, hardship, flood, and flame.
They speak from towers, clean and high,
But they don’t hear the farmhouse cry.
They don’t know the fear at night,
They don’t know the endless fight,
They don’t know what it costs to stay
When hope gets harder every day.

Bridge
No farmer, no harvest.
No harvest, no bread.
No bread on the table.
No children fed.
No cattle, no grain.
No fruit on the vine.
No milk in the morning.
No future in time.

So tell me, who carries the hunger of nations?
Who stands in the storm without celebration?
Who bleeds in the silence, then rises again?
The farmer.
The farmer.
The farmer, my friend.

Verse 3
One day, when the shelves are bare,
And the hungry world looks everywhere,
They’ll remember the fields they left behind,
And the hands they chose to undermine.
They’ll search for bread, they’ll search for seed,
They’ll finally understand the need.
But love the farmer while he’s here,
Not when his land has disappeared.

For every plough, for every field,
For every wound that never healed,
For every prayer beneath the stars,
For every gate, for every scar,
For every farmer standing tall,
This song is written for you all.
From every country, every land,
The world still lives because you stand.

Final Chorus
So stand, every farmer, everywhere,
Through the dust, through the cold, through the weight you bear.
You are the hands that keep us alive,
The roots of the world, the reason we survive.
When they break your back and call it fair,
When they take your voice and say they care,
Let the whole world hear this song:
Without the farmer, the world is gone.

Outro
So hold the line, old farmer.
Hold it strong and true.
The earth remembers every step,
And we remember you.
From sunrise fields to evening rain,
Through silent loss and hidden pain,
May every nation come to see:
The farmer feeds humanity.

3489/7500

“For Every Farmer” Verse 1 From the red dirt roads to the fields of green, From frozen hills to the dry ravine, There’s a hand on a gate in the morning light, And a heart that has carried the world through the night. Before the cities wake, before engines start, There’s a farmer out there with a faithful heart. With cracked old hands and a weathered face, Feeding strangers he will never embrace. He plants in hope. He works through pain. He prays for sun. He prays for rain. And when the world sits down to eat, They forget the soil beneath their feet. Chorus So stand, every farmer, everywhere, Through the dust, through the cold, through the weight you bear. You are the hands that keep us alive, The roots of the world, the reason we survive. When they break your back and call it fair, When they take your voice and say they care, Know this truth when the night gets long: Without the farmer, the world is gone. Verse 2 There’s a mother watching clouds roll by, Counting every debt beneath the sky. There’s a father fixing steel with wire, Too tired to sleep, too proud to tire. There’s a son learning how to sow, There’s a daughter watching cattle grow, There’s a family built on sacrifice, Paying for tomorrow with today’s price. And still they blame the farmer’s name, For hunger, hardship, flood, and flame. They speak from towers, clean and high, But they don’t hear the farmhouse cry. They don’t know the fear at night, They don’t know the endless fight, They don’t know what it costs to stay When hope gets harder every day. Chorus So stand, every farmer, everywhere, Through the dust, through the cold, through the weight you bear. You are the hands that keep us alive, The roots of the world, the reason we survive. When they break your back and call it fair, When they take your voice and say they care, Know this truth when the night gets long: Without the farmer, the world is gone. Bridge No farmer, no harvest. No harvest, no bread. No bread on the table. No children fed. No cattle, no grain. No fruit on the vine. No milk in the morning. No future in time. So tell me, who carries the hunger of nations? Who stands in the storm without celebration? Who bleeds in the silence, then rises again? The farmer. The farmer. The farmer, my friend. Verse 3 One day, when the shelves are bare, And the hungry world looks everywhere, They’ll remember the fields they left behind, And the hands they chose to undermine. They’ll search for bread, they’ll search for seed, They’ll finally understand the need. But love the farmer while he’s here, Not when his land has disappeared. For every plough, for every field, For every wound that never healed, For every prayer beneath the stars, For every gate, for every scar, For every farmer standing tall, This song is written for you all. From every country, every land, The world still lives because you stand. Final Chorus So stand, every farmer, everywhere, Through the dust, through the cold, through the weight you bear. You are the hands that keep us alive, The roots of the world, the reason we survive. When they break your back and call it fair, When they take your voice and say they care, Let the whole world hear this song: Without the farmer, the world is gone. Outro So hold the line, old farmer. Hold it strong and true. The earth remembers every step, And we remember you. From sunrise fields to evening rain, Through silent loss and hidden pain, May every nation come to see: The farmer feeds humanity.

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