I went out again one Sunday afternoon
To see an old farmer that I knew well
And he was still sitting on his veranda
As he once did with his loved wife Nell
He never was one for words at all at best
And he just pushed his same old hat back
he said
I KNEW YA WAS COME'N I SAW THE DUST UP THE TRACK
I gave him a cigarette and he looked at it to see
He said
NOT AS GOOD AS THIS WILD TOBACCY HE MUMBLED
BUT ILL TRY IT OUT IF YOU AGREE
We talked about life out there for him
And he frowned and softly said
I JUST SIT OUT HERE FROM MORN TILL NIGHT
AND THEN TODDLE OF TA BED
I asked him how his horse s were at the time
He said
THEY'ER OUT THERE RUNNEN FREE
AND IF I WENT NEAR EM NOW
THEY JUST WOULD'NT EVEN KNOW ME
He then said
DO YA KNOW WHAT I NEED MORE PATIENCE MATE
THE TIME IT SIMPLY GOES SO SLOW
AND THE BEST FRIEND THAT I GOT OUT HERE
IS THAT OLD WAGON DON'T CHA KNOW
IT'S BEEN WITH ME NOW JUST SIXTY YEARS
AND I'VE NEVER HEARD IT COMPLAIN
AND IT SITS AROUND LIKE I DO NOW
COME HAIL SUNSHINE OR RAIN
I HAVE'NT USED IT IN SIMPLY YEARS
AND IT JUST WAITEN THERE ALL THE TIME
IF THAT WAS ME YOU WILL AGREE
A BLOKE WOULD LOSE HIS MIND
I gave him some rations I had taken out
And some real tobacco then as well
Some matches and a bottle of whiskey
And also some chickens might I tell
I walked back to my trusty truck then
And he then waved his old hat goodby
I then looked at that old wagon up the back
And I felt as if then I really could cry
He was ninety nine when I last saw him
And they say he died in that oldest chair
Some things in life are worse than strife
And in my mind really are not all that fair.
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