As we sat on the front porch,
Of that old grey house where I was born and raised.
Stared out at the dusty fields,
Where daddy always worked hard every day.
I think it kinda hurt him when I said: "Daddy,
"There's a lot that I don't know,
"But don't you ever dream about a life,
"Where corn don't grow?"
He just sat there silent,
Staring at his favorite coffee cup.
I saw a storm of mixed emotion in his eyes,
When he looked up.
He said: "Son, I know at your age,
"It feels like this ol' world is turning slow,
"And d'you think you'll find the answer to it all,
"Where corn don't grow?"
Hard times are real,
There's dusty fields,
No matter where you go.
You may change your mind,
'Cos the weeds are high,
Where corn don't grow.
I remember feeling guilty,
When Daddy turned and walked back in the house.
I was only seventeen back then,
But it seems like I knew more than I know now.
I can't say he didn't tell me,
The city life's a hard row to hoe.
Ain't it funny how a dream can turn around,
Where corn don't grow.
Hard times are real,
There's dusty fields,
No matter where you go.
You may change your mind,
'Cos the weeds are high,
Where corn don't grow.
You may change your mind,
'Cos the weeds are high,
Where corn don't grow.
