We are the land…

We are the farmers and the woodsmen

The fishermen and the ranchers

We are the gals in old pickups

Coming to town for feed for their animals

The men on the town truck

Mending the road

The Wichita Lineman that someone wrote a song about

We are the farmer with his tractor coming home at the end of a day

The rancher, checking his stock before a coming storm

The fisherman, looking for the harbor lights in the evening

Woodsmoke on an autumn wind

A light in the window

The land is not ours –

Oh the deed down at the courthouse may say so

But the land is not ours

We keep faith with our forefathers

And we care for the land for our children

And our children’s children

We are the land.