Farm Life

When the good morn breaks on the acre

With it comes a light the likes I've never known

And the wind bends leaves like people seeking answers

And the clouds roll on like whispers off the tongue

There's a kettle on the stove singing praises

And the smell reminds of campfires of old

There's an old clock ticking to its own time

Sending tell of how fast that time don't go

I miss the farm life, I miss my home

I miss the sunshine that fades when I roam

I miss the crow call, that old waking tone

I miss the farm life, I miss my home

Oh, the soft touch of your hold in the evening

Brings a warmth inside the home that breaks the cold

And the patter of footsteps on the hardwood

Brings elation that's no different from finding gold

I miss the farm life, I miss my home

I miss the sunshine that fades when I roam

I miss the crow call, that old waking tone

I miss the farm life, I miss my home

I miss the farm life, I miss my home

I miss the sunshine that fades when I roam

I miss the crow call, that old waking tone

I miss the farm life, I miss my home