The farmers do not have those nice eight hour jobs
They toil from sun to sun, all day long
No benefits, vacations, just late hour jobs
But they stay fit and fine, happy, and strong

And with their udder hands,
They squeeze like rubber bands
Until Elsie gets relief,
As in the stall she stands..
Before nice stainless steel machines
Hit dairylands..
The way all farmers milked
Was on the udder hands..

The farmers keep crops growin'..they're our food supply
If they didn't we would all be skinny sticks
So, when you pass one on the road, wave a friendly "Hi"
They've made a sacrifice, and don't just farm for "kicks"

And on their udder hands,
They squeeze like rubber bands
Till poor Elsie has relief
As in the stall she stands
Before those stainless steel machines
Hit dairylands..
The way the farmers milked
Was on the udder hands

The way the farmers milked
Was on the udder hands