I leave:
To my wife my overdraft at the
bank--maybe she can explain it.

To my banker my soul--he has
the mortgage on it anyway.

To my neighbor my clown suit
he'll need it if he continues
to farm as he has in the past.

To the ASCS my grain bin--I
was planning to let them take
it next year, anyway.

To the county agent 50 bushels
of corn to see if he can hit the
market--I never could.

To the junk man all my machinery
he's had his eye on it for years.

To my undertaker a special request
I want six implement and fertilizer
dealers for my pallbearers. They are
use to carrying me.

To the weatherman rain and sleet and
snow for the funeral, please--no
sense in having good weather now.

To the grave digger--don't bother,
the hole I'm in should be big enough.