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Farmer’s Letter to the President

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1929 October 23 To the President of the USA Washington, D.C Kind sir, I take my pen in hand to drop you just a line I've got some things to talk about that's long been on my mind I know you'll understand, sir, of course I mean no harm I only want to ask you, sir, some things about my farm I've farmed nigh on to twenty years but now I must admit I cannot go on the way things are and yet I hate to quit I've farmed nigh on to twenty years, there's something wrong I guess Too poor to live, too poor to die, we're sure in a terrible mess I've figured it out from every side, the figures herein I give Please work it out and let me know how can a poor farmer live Now figure it out in Washington, show us in white and black Why the money we put on our farms we never do get back I've mortgaged my mules to buy the seedin' in order to stay on top I mortgaged my barn and mortgaged my Farm to pay for gatherin' the crop Now the crop is in and it's all right, the corn was a little rotten The cotton is fine, got plenty of it, but sir, we cannot eat cotton Our cattle don't look so very well, our hogs are powerful thin The summer was hard, the winter looks bad, it's an awful mess we're in I've tried to fatten up my stock, I fail, I cannot deny But the price they charge for feedstuffs Sir, it's cheaper to let 'em die Now here's a little problem, been figurin' on it too If you can solve the answer I'll be much obliged to you Now, I'm always just a little thing, weighs ninety pounds I guess Why does it take a bale of cotton to buy more just one dress? And those fellers in your office send literature and fuss If they had to follow a plow all day they'd holler just like us 'Cause literature ain't what we need, that's one expense to stop The thing us farmers really need is a market for our crop And everybody gives advice, we wish that they would stop Advice don't help, what we need most is a market for our crop We all can figure but until the market problem's met No matter how we figure, we're all afloat upset So subtracted or divided, figures never lie Add it up or multiply it, figures never lie We all can figure but until the market problem's met No matter how we figure, we're all afloat upset That's all I've got to say, sir, my letter now I end Sincerely I remain, sir, respectfully your friend