This song got to me, too...

Rain On The Scarecrow
~ John Mellencamp

Scarecrow on a wooden cross, blackbird in the barn,
Four hundred empty acres that used to be my farm.
I grew up like my daddy did, my grandpa cleared this land.
When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand.

Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow.
This land fed a nation, this land made me proud,
and son I'm just sorry there's no legacy for you now.
Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow.
Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow.

The crops we grew last summer weren't enough to pay the loans.
Couldn't buy the seed to plant this spring and the farmers bank foreclosed.
Called my old friend Schepman up to auction off the land.
He said, "John, its just my job and I hope you understand."
Hey calling it your job, ol hoss sure don't make it right.
But if you want me to, I'll say a prayer for your soul tonight.
And Grandma's on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand.
Sometimes I hear her singing, "Take me to the promised land."
When you take away a man's dignity, he can't work his fields and cows.

There'll be blood on the scarecrow, blood on the plow;
Blood on the scarecrow, blood on the plow.

Well there's ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard.
Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms.
I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name
And some nights I feel like dying like that scarecrow in the rain.

Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow.
This land fed a nation, this land made me proud,
and son I'm just sorry there's no legacy for you now.
Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow.
Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow.