Farmers Serve the Waiters Lyrics

I will empty all my accounts to become a waiter
On hand and foot and tend to invisible hammers,
Guitars and pens everything returns with purpose again.
I can't be on vacation all of the time so I take
A plough and platter and march through hell-holes
Chuckling storms
Magician jars hit and run hot stuff,
Just for the fun.
Just wait...
We grow head to toe as we wait upon you.