Verse I:

I'm a space age new-wave farmer, but I'm still an old-fashioned man.
I sell genetically engineered tomaters, out front at my roadside stand.
I don't breed livestock anymore, I'm clonin' pigs and sheep and cows.
I got a PHD in biology, don't know why but I do know how.


Chorus:

Well you can call me the New MacDonald,
We can chat when I'm on line.
And you can reach me vi-a email,
Or you can fax me any time.
Yeah they call me the New MacDonald,
I'm a agri-C.E.O.
You can find my stock on NASDAQ,
Listed E.I.E.I.O.
Yeah I'm the New MacDonald,
Oh Yeah, the New MacDonald.




Verse II:

My John Deere's got cruise control, an' a eight-disk DVD.
A-C, auto, white-walled tires, it's a beautiful sight to see.
I got a global satellite uplink, built into my pick-up truck.
Keep her out in the barn an' ev-ry mornin' jump in an' boot 'er up.


Verse III:

I got a gal, met her on the net, she's the laser of my life.
An' if I play my cards just right, gonna' be the farmer's wife.
She can program a computer', she can bake a cherry pie.
Memorized the Kama Sutra, an' she can make the bed sheets fly.


Verse IV:

Grow mushrooms in my cellar, sell for fifty bucks an ounce.
Take you on a trip most anywhere, don't even have to leave the house.
Got cash crops I don't talk about, 'cause of the DEA.
Makin' money while the sun shines, an son that sure ain't hay.