Down on the farm, 'bout half past four,
I slip on my pants and sneak out the door.
Out to the yard I run like the dickens,
To milk ten cows and feed the chickens,

Clean out the barn,
curry Nance and Jiggs,
Separate the cream and slop all the pigs,

Work two hours, then eat like a Turk
And, by heck, I'm ready for a full day's work.

Then I grease the wagon and put on the rack,
Throw a jug of water in an old grain sack,
Hitch up the horses, hustle down the lane.

Must get the hay in, for it looks like rain.
Look over yonder, sure as I'm born,
Cattle's on the rampage and cows in the corn.
Start across the medder, run a mile or two,
Heaving like I'm wind broke, gettin wet clean through.

Get back to the horses, as if he had no sense,
Nance got astraddle on the barbed wire fence.
Joints all a-aching and muscles in a jerk;
I'm fit as a fiddle, ready for a full day's work.

Work all summer till winter is nigh,
Then figure up the books and heave a big sigh.
Worked all year, didn't make a thing,
Got less cash now than I had last spring.

Now, some people say that there ain't no hell,
But they never farmed, so they can't tell.
When spring rolls 'round I take another chance,
While the fringe grows longer on my old blue pants.
Give my s'penders a hitch, my belt another jerk.
And, by heck, I'm ready for a full year's work.