Farro is a food composed of the grains of certain wheat species, sold dried and prepared by cooking in water until soft, but still crunchy (many recommend first soaking overnight). It may be eaten plain, though it is often used as an ingredient in dishes such as salads and soups.
Farro is an ethnobotanical term derived from Italian Latin for a group of three wheat species: spelt (triticum spelta), emmer (triticum dicoccum), and einkorn (triticum monococcum) which are types of hulled wheat (wheat which cannot be threshed). In Italian cuisine, farro is sometimes (but not always) distinguished as farro grande, farro medio, and farro piccolo, respectively. Confusion is generated by the difficult history in the taxonomy of wheat and the colloquial, regional use of the term for specific wheat species; for example, emmer grown in the Garfagnana region of Tuscany is known as farro, and can receive an IGP designation (Indicazione Geografica Protetta), which by law guarantees its geographic origin. Emmer is by far the most common variety grown in Italy, in certain mountain regions of Tuscany and Abruzzo. It is also considered to be of a higher quality for cooking than the other two grains and is sometimes called "true" farro. Farro is also sometimes defined as spelt (dinkel in German), specifically distinguished from both emmer and einkorn.
So we started in the cornfield
And I know we did not slack
We got everything in order
But we forgot to bring the bucket back
The foreman he went crazy
And ran around the field
Said we must be lazy
Had to be seen to be believed
Seen to be believed.
But it was a long way
From this highroad
It was a far away from here.
The farmer had a daughter
And she worked at the wishing well
Put one leg in the water
'til she found the mission bell
The old man went crazy
And ran to get his gun
We had a bad time explaining
We were just having drunken fun
Just having drunken fun.
But it was a long way
From this high road, Oh!
It was a long way from here
So we walked along this road
Just tellin' stories as we go
We just walk along.
Well the farmer had a daughter
And she did not speak a word
We used to kiss her in the orchard
Till one morning we were overheard
The old man he went crazy
Running around the field
Said we must be crazy
Had to be seen to be believed