There's a farmer in a distant country working on the land A hat upon his head and a shovel in his hand Till the soil, plant the seed, wait a while, cut the leaf And send another cup of tea to me I'm a spoiled child of the Great Imperialist State I cannot kill my meat nor grow the food upon my plate I never walked a mile to the well, When the tap runs dry, do tell What will become of you and me What will become of us, who will give us trust Will you believe me, when I say I never loved profiting from your pain That I felt shame, when I looked the other way Woke up this morning, the revolution knocking down my door Those capitalist pigs? No, they don't live here anymore Slipped out the back door into my car How far can you drive, how far There's a farmer in a distant country working on the land Food turned into flowers for the uptown florist stand What you saved another paid to turn his soil into sand The world will not deliver on demand What will become of us, who will give us trust Will you believe me, when I say I never loved profiting from your pain That I felt shame, when I looked the other way