"...and the food to eat."

He glanced t’ward the setting sun, took a breath and sighed.
Anxiously he settled ‘cross the porch and shield his eyes.

He’d made a count of ev’rything, all the things he owed,
rising price of gasoline, columbine he rode.

Rain was falling gently he walked into the house,
hung his hat across a peg, smile fixed on his mouth.

He’d made it through another year.  Daddy would be proud
he hadn’t had to sell the farm.

Jimmy’d been allowed
to say grace o’er the summer and rose up on his feet,

“Thank you God,” he said, “for ev’rything and the food to eat.”