Welfare Farmer
Tariffs, trade wars & broken bearings: Trump's attack on the family farmer
This song dramatizes how Trump has screwed a group that has been one of his most stalwart supporters, now that he no longer needs them for electoral purposes.
Why now?
During the month of December, midwest soy bean farmers are typically shifting from physical fieldwork to business management and logistics.
Tax Management: Farmers operate on a cash basis for taxes. In December, they often rush to pre-pay for next year’s seed, fertilizer, and chemicals to lower their taxable income for the current year.
Grain Marketing: They closely monitor the markets to decide whether to sell the grain they stored in harvest bins or keep holding it for better prices later in winter.
Lender Meetings: This is prime time for meeting with ag lenders to secure operating lines of credit for the upcoming growing season.
A new trade deal with China resumes purchase of American soy beans but it is unlikey to match pre-Trump tariff levels, causing economic hardship for farmers as they determine how they might survive. Watch this analysis for a deeper explanation.
Lyrics
The coffee’s stale, the grease is cold,
I’m reading lies I’ve just been told.
The screen says “China’s Buying More,”
Like they’re knocking down our door.
But I run the math, I check the chart,
It’s enough to stop a beating heart.
Trump calls it a win, a brand new deal,
But I know exactly how this feels.
It’s a time machine, a backward slide,
With nowhere left for us to hide.
Yeah, we’re partying like it’s 2004,
But China don’t play no more.
They built new roads to Brazil’s gate,
While I sit here and contemplate.
Cashing checks that kill my pride,
Need the government just to survive.
I ain’t a farmer, I’m a welfare case,
Staring down the end of the race.
Just a ghost in a machine shop light,
Trying to make the ledger right.
My planter’s sitting in the shed,
Stripped down bare, looking dead.
Needs a bearing that I cannot find,
Another casualty of the grind.
Dealer says it’s four months out,
Supply chains choked with fear and doubt.
Spring is coming like a freight train,
But my iron’s stuck in some shipping lane.
Tariff wars and broken parts,
Breaking backs and breaking hearts.
I heard the news from Washington,
About the deal that they just done.
Twenty billion sent down south,
While a bitter taste fills up my mouth.
Trump bails them out to float the Peso,
So they can plant what we should grow.
They cut their tax and filled the ships,
With soy bean cash and diplomatic quips.
Our tariff costs paving Brazil’s lane,
Funding the knife that cuts my vein.
I look out past the machine shed glass,
At the snow-covered soy and frozen grass.
But the horizon’s changing, glowing bright,
Suburban sprawl in the winter night.
Developers calling every day,
“Turn that dirt to a cul-de-sac play.”
Life-changing money on the line,
To leave this broken trade behind.
Every loss makes the offer sweet,
To pave my fields with asphalt streets.
So I’m closing the checkbook, drawing the line,
No pre-pay fertilizer this time.
Let the co-op preach their soil test,
I’m putting the “Starvation Strategy” to the rest.
Profit over yield, that’s the new creed,
Sap analysis is all I need.
I’ll feed ‘em a teaspoon, not a ton,
And pray I’m right when the season’s done.
If I’m wrong, the auctioneer calls,
If I’m right... I just stall the fall.
Yeah, we’re partying like it’s 2004,
But China don’t play no more.
They built new roads to Brazil’s gate,
While I sit here and contemplate.
Cashing checks that kill my pride,
Need the government just to survive.
I ain’t a farmer, I’m a welfare case,
Staring down the end of the race.
Just a ghost in a machine shop light,
Trying to make the ledger right.