Sam Hensley: Music

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I have this idealized idea of what farming would be like, waking up early every morning, watching the sunrise, preparing to face the day. Paradise. I'm sure I'm wrong. But when North Carolina faced a rain shortage a few years back, I began to parallel the experience with the spiritual and emotional drought that I face in my own life. And the question is, how do we deal with both?

Looks like another hot one in the country
Rocks are melting in this heat
Paint is peeling on the side of the barn
And the shoes off my feet
Haven’t seen a drop of rain in a week now
Corn is drying up in rows
It’s another summertime in the southland
where farmers never know

Chorus:
I get up early while the sun is rising
Take a look out on the land
Then I thank the Lord for every little sign and
The chance to be the man I am, for the chance to be the man, that I am

Everybody’s always looking to the skyline
searching for a single cloud
And you cannot hear the grumble of the farmhands
For the noise of everybody praying out loud

Night is falling here like everywhere
Put my tools and hopes away
In every breath, there is a simple happiness, and my
Thanks for another day

And I sleep, to the falling rain