The John Deere H

I close my eyes and a wide blue sky
Is spreading out before me
And I'm hearing that old engine crank
Again in all its glory
It's a faded memory that I go back to now and then
I'd give my right arm to be on that farm
With the John Deere H again

The John Deere H was a row crop tractor
Ours was a '43
And I was still too young to drive
But I knew she was made for me
It would be like heaven to start her up
And till that stubborn ground
I'd climb up on that metal seat
And make up my own tractor sounds.

The H was made in a factory
Down in Waterloo
But my dad had got her second hand
From some folks that we knew
She wasn't sleek and she wasn't fast
Took a while to get her going
But she beat a horse and a hand held plow
For cutting hay and hoeing

Then to my surprise he said one night
"Boy, it's time you got to learning"
Then he showed me how to check the spark
And set that flywheel turning
I was only eight years old
Had to stand to reach the pedals
But I was so proud you'd have thought
That I'd just won some kind of medal

In the spring she pulled a corn planter
In the newly thawed out ground
And at harvest time she'd help make hay
Before the fields turned brown
She cut alfalfa with a sickle mower
The sweet smell filled the sky
And in dreams at night we'd still be working
The John Deere H and I

That old machine was a farm kid's dream
None like her before or after
But we let her go in hopes of knowing
So-called greener pastures
Though I've been around the world
My life's the envy of most men
I'd give my right hand for that piece of land
And the John Deere H again
I'd give my right arm to be on that farm
With the John Deere H again