Son of Johnny Appleseed
Well, Ma died while Pa was at war He didn't see her buried on that seashore He came with magazines and rotten apple cores He didn't have the strength to help with the chores He planted trees where once our fields And new ideas on what to yield With gold in mind and a shovel in hand He got to work and began to plant Journeyed far across the land with Bitter fruit grasped in your hand Johnny Appleseed Johnny Appleseed The Sheriff came with his crusaders And their foreign words on books of paper "This land ain't yours, and you are a failure Yeah, you're born to be a machinator" Journeyed far across the land with Bitter fruit grasped in your hand Johnny Appleseed Johnny Appleseed Well who hit first? We'll never know But in the end, the winner did show Man-made paper does not bestow Where a man may or may not grow Journeyed far Across the land With bitter fruit Grasped in your hand
Written by: Jena Vickrey, Joe Vickrey
Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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