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