A Sound &
A Farmer
A fourth-generation West Texas farmer describe life on these desolate plains with his own original music.
I keep looking for
ideas that will endure
me and all my breathing
till the next life comes along
I know it’s dark
as a stray dog’s bark
so I’ll keep on cleaning
my guns and my thoughts
I’m the son of a son
of a son a farmer
And things do get harder
In the midnight hour
whether your eyes
are open or shut
so just keep on dreaming
on paths without ruts
Keep your ears
above water and beers
while your caboose is sliding
off those narrow steel tracks
that's a clack and a hiss
you don't wanna miss
behind Engine Number Nine
headed for the Great Divide
Should I sing loud?
Should I sing soft?
Should I be someone
who mentions anything at all?
©Eric Herm 2026
Our family has lived and worked the soil for more than a century in West Texas. It is a heritage that has shaped the rhythm of our lives. Through drought, wind, heat, rain, all kinds of storms and an occasional bumper crop, I am continually reminded the earth is the most honest teacher. Unforgiving at times, but always honest. As a farmer, you can't help but have a connection with the Earth and its elements. This deep connection to the soil has become the foundation for my music and poetry, translating farm life through music and literature. It gives me a sense of purpose, I guess. Sort of an archivist of rural history out here. And I hope my music and poetry can help give others a unique perspective of all this living in an unforgiving land that rolls, bends, buckles, bucks and shrugs into each sunrise and sunset along the horizon.
