old white washed barn doors rain rusted tin straw packed shirt and blue jeans hangin in the wind there s never time for these bones to mend up before the sun dries the frost on my fields i ve got the diesel burnin turnin these four wheels across this land i been handed down feel my roots run deep in this ground so stand me up tall in this seat lord help me guide this plow beneath my feet and turn this earth over one more time some say this way of life is done but not for my father s son three generations before i ever came cut back these timbers and bet their lives on grain and i want to see just once before i die us doin more than just barely getting by so stand me up tall in this seat lord help me guide this plow beneath my feet and turn this earth over one more time some say this way of life is done but not for my father s son now and then i walk my fence down by the old country road and watch the cars go rushin by and disappear like ghosts out where the sky meets the amber waves yeah i m a rock in this land god made so stand me up tall in this seat lord help me guide this plow beneath my feet and turn this earth over one more time some say this way of life is done but not for my father s son