Saturday, 02 August 2008

  • This is my ode to seed sackers everywhere.  To the tune of "Place in this World" by Michael W. Smith.

    The clock is moving
    But time is standing still
    A lot of seed bags
    Waiting to be filled
    My stomach's empty
    My hopper's full of seed
    Keeping up with fescue
    Is harder than it seems

    Feels like...
    I'm working for a season
    Bagging through the night to pay
    My way in this world
    My way in this world
    Not a lot that is fun
    But I need this job to help me pay
    My way in this world
    My way in this world

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