Who’s Your Farmer? – Gord Bamford

Who’s your farmer? Who’s your cowboy?
Who’s your curved bill, dirty boots thrown, on the back porch ploughboy? (Ploughboy)
Who’s the one you fix a drink, watch out over your kitchen sink?
Turn you on like a fire alarmer, girl
Who’s your farmer?

Who keeps plantin’ them kisses on your sweet tender lips?
Dancin’ in the rain with my hands on your hips
Who lays your life out in pretty little rows?
Who keeps that red dirt between your pretty toes?
Aww, say my name and let it echo through the holler
Who’s your farmer?

Who’s your john deere, who’s your cold beer?
Who’s your arms-around-you, on a four-wheeler flyin’ through a hayfield?
Who’s your crooked smile in a t-shirt tan, home grown southern charmer
Who’s your farmer?

Who keeps plantin’ them kisses on your sweet tender lips?
Dancin’ in the rain with my hands on your hips
Who lays your life out in pretty little rows?
Who keeps that red dirt between your pretty toes?
Aww, say my name and let it echo through the holler
Who’s your farmer?

Who works harder on lovin’ you than any ole hard-earned dollar, tell me? (Tell me, tell me)
Who’s your farmer?
Girl, come on up here let me show you how to drop a row marker, tell me
Who’s your farmer?

Who keeps plantin’ them kisses on your sweet tender lips?
Dancin’ in the rain with my hands on your hips
Who lays your life out in pretty little rows?
Who keeps that red dirt between your pretty toes?
Aww, say my name and let it echo through the holler
Who’s your farmer?
Yeah, say my name and let it echo through the holler
Who’s your farmer?
Who’s your farmer, baby?
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