Tractors

My name is Fergie. 
I'm a small gray tractor. 
I don't go very fast 
But that doesn't matter.

As I'm small
And don't have a cab over my head,
My owner's good to me,
He lets me sleep here in the shed. 

I do the light work on the farm, 
Towing small trailers 
with a few bales of hay on board. 
I can't tow balers. 

I have a friend 
whose name is John. 
He's a big green tractor 
with a cab over the top.

At night, just like me, 
He stays here in the shed. 
We don't like being left outside. 
Like you, we enjoy a warm bed. 

John does the big towing jobs. 
He's a very strong fellow,
And has four huge wheels 
That are painted yellow. 

Our best drivers are often girls. 
They are careful and drive slower. 
Some tractor drivers can be rough. 
We don't want to tip over.

During the summer 
Silage making tractors come on to our land. 
It's a pity I'm so small. 
I'd love to lend a hand. 

I like watching them work. 
It's an amazing sight. 
These monster tractors work long hours, 
often late into the night. 

The tractor pulled harvester cuts the grass 
Trailers filled to overflowing,
Tractors and trailers 
Coming and going. 

Tommy, our farmer's son, 
Loves to watch them too.
We can't sit here all day, though. 
We have our own work to do. 

“John, we're not working today. 
Let's race to the top of the field. 
You'll have to give me a start, though. 
You have a bigger engine and larger wheels.”

I start off first, 
Pushing the accelerator to the floor. 
Smoke shoots out the exhaust.
My engine roars. 

I'm going as fast as I can, 
but will it be enough?
I might have to slow down 
Where the road gets rough. 

A quick look back, 
John is on his way. 
He's coming up fast. 
He wants to win today.

As I round the bend, 
I can hear him coming. 
He's racing along 
Like a tiger running.

Getting close to the top field. 
The roadway is better, 
but the land up here 
Is so much wetter. 

Suddenly John is alongside me. 
Our wheel's nearly touching. 
I hold my steering wheel tight.
I don't want us crashing. 

I turn to look at John, 
But he's not there. 
Where has he gone? 
I can't see him anywhere!

Slowing down as I reach the top field,
I've time to look around. 
There's John back there. 
Two wheels stuck in soft ground. 

The road was so narrow 
When he tried to pass. 
Two wheels went off the road 
And on to the grass. 

I won. I won. I won.
I can't believe my luck. 
I must go back to work now 
And tow John out of the mud. 

Then I woke up. 
Things aren't what they seem. 
You must never race tractors. 
It was only a dream.