Fourscore and forty years ago
A formula this farmer found
You can move forward in your fog
By thanking God on your ground
This farmer from Frankfurt
Did not forget while he was living
For family, friends and farm
Poured forth thanksgiving
From his first to his final day
His forever focus was fixed
Whether full from food
Or in floods and conflicts
The folks from Frankfurt
They would frequently find
The farmer never made a fuss
Though bills he was behind
Whether his field was fruitful
Or his field was fallow
He flourished in being thankful
He refused to be shallow
The old Frankfurt farmer
He chose to follow no fool
In feast or in famine
Thanking God was his rule