I didn.t want to crash the other thread... but seeing as i am still in dreaming mode ...well doing and getting ready mode... i knocked this up
Oh to have a smallholding, some land to call my own
to eat the meat I've reared and cleaned , to eat the veg I've grown
I wouldn't give the chicken names, apart from specs and bob,
i'de have a special corner, to store me chopped up logs
I'de buy me wife a tractor, so she could cut the grass,
me self i'de have a quad bike , one thats really fast
I guess i'de plant an orchard , with apples plumbs and pear
i want to try some Turkey, and pigs with ginger hair
of course we need new wellies, but can't afford the best,
as long as they go up to knee, that will stop the mess
i guess the dog needs training..he really has to stop,
bringing back the baby chicks, in his sloppy chops
then there be the bad times, when somethings going to die
i guess its only nature, i'le learn how not to cry,
i'le have to learn to harrow, and plough and reap and sow
i'le have to feed the birds and stock , and watch the babies grow
then there be the slaughter day.. when some have reached the end
the hardest part of farming, the journey of a friend
but the bacons smelling lovely , the eggs look bright and yellow
the spuds taste great ,peas are green , the home brew taste so mellow
now the winters coming, all that rain and sleet and snow
the fields are looking tired, nothing seems to grow.
putting on the wellies, all cold and stiff and hard
tucking in the jumper , de-icing a frozen yard
springs around the corner, the flowers start to bloom
cockerel crowing earlier, calling to the moon
the paddock starts to flourish, the sun is in the sky
ile turn and look around me …smallholding comes alive