I carry the weight of the nations, but the farmer don't matter no more. They have taken my land for the cities, and Big Business has kicked in my door. And, now when I rise in the morning, My land cries and says to me "John, Who on the planet will love me, when all the small farmers are gone?" chorus:  My sons and my daughters have left me.               They can't earn enough to stay on.               Oh, and it's gonna make,  America ache                When all the small farmers are gone. Well the stars shine so bright in the heavens at night over my little farm, but who'll face the Unknown who made them When all the small farmers are gone? chorus:  My sons and my daughters have left me               They can't earn enough to stay on.               Oh, and it's gonna make the whole planet ache               When all the small farmers are gone!

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