Farming Town

It doesn't look like it's going to rain today
The sun came out chasing those bothersome clouds away
Birds are splashing in puddles on the ground
There's a rainbow stretched out high above this little farming town
On the outskirts where a pot of gold might lay
One time I picked up Mary Jones, and we drove on out a ways
We studied up on life in a field of golden maize
And our world was forty acres, and it rained for forty days

Folks are gathered at the general store
They like to talk about the weather as they sit around the door
Sometimes they speak of things they really shouldn't tell
But the secrets of the universe are whispered there as well
Mr. Johnson, he doesn't need that cane
And he waves it at you when he says "We got too damn much rain!"
Some may disagree, but they all nod just the same
It depends on what you planted, if you lose or if you gain

Outside my window in the sparkling trees
You can see the world is turning, you can tell it by the breeze
Sometimes in the wind I can almost hear the tales
Of old men sailing oceans, and the leaves are like ringing bells
There's a highway that runs just north of town
And it's slapped across the countryside. You don't have to stick around
But much of what you're searching for might very well be found
In a lazy, dusty main street of some little farming town