My Mule Is My G-P-S

Few folks know the feeling
Of tilling the soft dark earth
Been crawling on my mama's belly
Since the lonely days of my birth
No matter how stony the path gets
How much sweat of the brow and duress
You can sell your soul
For all your new-fangled toys
My mule is my G-P-S
Oh yes, my mule is my G-P-S.

My friends all lose their bearings
Every time Venus transects Mars
The repairs 'll drive you to the poor house
Or to plowing up the local bars
My papa taught me long ago
How to get the most from using less
You can sit in you cool cab
Thinking about the scorching tab
My mule is my G-P-S
Oh yes, my mule is my G-P-S.

Now I don't worry 'bout diesel
As fuel prices go through the roof
My fertilizer is all natural
My carrot pudding is my only proof
Overlapping sprays of weed killer
Make a wasteful toxic mess
I keep my lines straight
Right outta the gate
My mule is my G-P-S
Oh yes, my mule is my G-P-S.


Nice to have somebody pulling for you
Once in a while.