Mike Dailey Poet I do not know?

Dear John

I’m writing “Dear John” letters to John Deere
I can’t afford the gas hikes and continue to farm here
So I’m writing “Dear John” letters to John Deere

John, you’re quite the fashion statement in your yellow and your green
You’ve seen me through the good times; you’ve seen me through the lean
You’ve always been there for me as I plowed the field
You deserve the accolades for every yearly yield
But, John, we must part company despite our wondrous past
For, John, you have depleted me, I can’t afford your gas

I thought that this would end it; I thought my thoughts were clear
I thought we would part peacefully; the end was Oh so near
When I wrote this “Dear John” letter to John Deere

But letters can’t convey the heartache that I feel
Through all those years together – the wounds that will not heal
For letters are mere word groups and simply can’t replace
The finality of endings that takes place face to face
So I’m out here with my John Deere, the key within my hand
I turn it, slip out of the seat, and walk away a man

Oh, he’ll find another farmer who can afford his bill
I’ll see him on another farm parked up there on a hill
The yields won’t be as profitable as when we were together
And I’ll think about him often but I know it’s for the better
I’ll have to go back farming as my forefathers did back here
And forget the years together that we had – me and John Deere

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