| He gets up before the dawn
|
| Packs a lunch and a thermos full of coffee
|
| It’s another day in the dusty haze
|
| Those burnin' rays are wearin' down his body
|
| The diesel’s worth the price of gold
|
| It’s the cheapest grain he’s ever sold
|
| But he’s still holdin' on
|
| He just takes the tractor another round
|
| And pulls the plow across the ground
|
| And sends up another prayer
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| He says, «Lord, I never complain, I never ask 'Why?'
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| Please don’t let my dreams run dry
|
| Underneath, underneath this Amarillo Sky»
|
| That hail storm back in '83
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| Sure did take a toll on his family
|
| But he stayed strong and carried on
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| Just like his Dad and Granddad did before him
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| On his knees every night
|
| He prays, «Please let my crops and children grow»
|
| 'Cause that’s all he’s ever known
|
| He just takes the tractor another round
|
| And pulls the plow across the ground
|
| And sends up another prayer
|
| He says, «Lord, I never complain, I never ask 'Why?'
|
| Please don’t let my dreams run dry
|
| Underneath, underneath this Amarillo Sky»
|
| And he takes the tractor another round. |
| (Another round)
|
| Another round (Another round), another round
|
| And he takes the tractor another round, another round
|
| He says, «I never complain, I never ask 'Why?'
|
| Please don’t let my dreams run dry
|
| Underneath, underneath this Amarillo Sky»
|
| «Underneath this Amarillo Sky» |