| Mischief Brew – Ol time memr'y Lyrics | 15 years ago |
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OK... here's my line by line -- but I could be way off: When dad passed away, we sold the family farm. We sold the land that he toiled away on for housing developments to be built. Our generation are not farmers. Farming itself is a dying tradition. There really is no place for it in today's society. While the bartender fills my glass, he says we're living in the past Why preserve the antiquated tradition of farming? End it's misery. We sigh and say that our generation no longer values land as anything more than property. We're lamenting about yesterday... So you say you've got this fancy new fake wood stove in your second home. They really designed that sucker to mimic an actual antique wood stove. And then you've got up this home sweet home banner, along with a quote from Thoreau. And they call *ME* a throwback when I cry remember??? Essentially, you've created this fake environment in your second home to make it seem quaint and rustic as your way of reminiscing about the past. But I'm looking at our fields and rangelands as my reminder of the past -- a past which is ever fading away by an encroaching city. Son, these tools (farm tools?) are artifacts... no longer useful, obsolete. We (the farmers?) are an endangered species leaving our tracks. Even we are getting locked up in the urban environment of the city. Once that happens, there's no going back. Farming is essentially dead. Except when it's sold for its kitschy/touristy values (wine tasting, dude ranches, etc.) But I'll never understand why they'll always keep building houses out in the country for the people who want to get out of the city -- but what they're really building is cheap tract housing. Big, fancy boxes where you are stored in what was once the agriculturally dominant country. |
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