Lyrics

I'm a lost farm relic
Lying dead in the field
From the 20th century
Tires are rotten
And my axels stuck in the clay
But that don't bother me

There's not much use for my kind
Even straight off the line I couldn't do what they do today
And the fingers and hands that I've eaten,
For that I'm truly sorry I must say

Tiger lilies surround me now
Trumpet vines grow through all my spokes
I take my solace in knowing
Ain't nothing more that can be broke

Tiger lilies surround my head
Trumpet vine grows through all my spokes
I take my solace in knowing
No more blood will be flowing
Nothing more can be broke

I'm a lost farm relic
Lying dead in the field
From the 20th century
Flowers lay their wreaths around me
And no one bothers me

No one bothers me