Lyrics Brewster's Farm - Porter Wagoner

Who′s gonna hoe the cotton, who's gonna cut the cane
When the creek goes dry next summer,
Who′s gonna pray for rain who'll fear the cold wind comin',
Then weather out the storm when the auctioneer cries
How much will you give for brewster′s farm
Who′ll wake to the crowing of that old rhode island red
That sits out on the gatepost to get brewster out of bed
Who'll sing the songs of david in church on sunday morn
Whose name will grace the mailbox that now reads b
Rewster′s farm in washington they stand and say
The farmers need a hand but the ones that's selling brewster′s farm
All work for uncle sam smooth talking politicians
That wine and dine and charm then
Turn their back and walk away from the sale of brewster's farm
Now we can′t fault his failure cause he worked
And never stopped it just cost him more to plant his seed
Than he got for his crop and the profits he had counted on
All went to countries foreign it was a shady deal but it wasn't
Made in the shade of brewster's farm so tell me
Who′s gonna hoe the cotton, who′s gonna cut the cane
When the creek goes dry next summer,
Who's gonna pray for rain who′ll fear the cold wind comin',
Then weather out the storm when the auctioneer cries
How much will you give for brewster′s farm