Back in nineteen twenty seven I had a little farm and I called it heaven Prices up and the rain come down I hauled my crops all into town Got the money...bought clothes and groceries... Fed the kids..and raised a big family
But the rain quit and the wind got high Black old dust storm filled the sky I traded my farm for a Ford machine Poured it full of this gas-i-line And started...rocking and a-rolling Deserts and mountains...to California
Way up yonder on a mountain road Hot motor and a heavy load Going purty fast, wasn't even stopping Bouncing up and down like popcorn a-popping Had a breakdown..kind of a nervous bustdown Mechanic feller there charged me five bucks And said it was En-gine trouble
Way up yonder on a mountain curve Way up yonder in a piney wood I gave that rolling Ford a shove Gonna coast just fars as I could Commence a rolling..picking up speed Come a hairpin turn..and I didn't make it
Man alive, I'm a telling you The fiddles and guitars really flew That Ford took off like a flying squirrel Flew halfway around the world Scattered wives and children All over the side of that mountain
Got to California so dad-gum broke So dad-gum hungry I thought I'd choke I bummed up a spud or two Wife fixed up some tater stew We poured the kids full of it Looked like a tribe of thy-mometers arunning around
Lord, man, I swear to you That was surely mighty thin stew So damn thin I really mean You could read a magizine Right through it..look at the pictures too Purty whiskey bottles..naked women
Always have thought, always figured If that damn stew had been a little thinner Some of these here politicians Could of seen through it
@hardtimes filename[ DUSTBOWL SF ===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY
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Copy to Clipboard: Talking Dust Bowl Blues (Woody Guthrie)
Back in nineteen twenty seven I had a little farm and I called it heaven Prices up and the rain come down I hauled my crops all into town Got the money...bought clothes and groceries... Fed the kids..and raised a big family
But the rain quit and the wind got high Black old dust storm filled the sky I traded my farm for a Ford machine Poured it full of this gas-i-line And started...rocking and a-rolling Deserts and mountains...to California
Way up yonder on a mountain road Hot motor and a heavy load Going purty fast, wasn't even stopping Bouncing up and down like popcorn a-popping Had a breakdown..kind of a nervous bustdown Mechanic feller there charged me five bucks And said it was En-gine trouble
Way up yonder on a mountain curve Way up yonder in a piney wood I gave that rolling Ford a shove Gonna coast just fars as I could Commence a rolling..picking up speed Come a hairpin turn..and I didn't make it
Man alive, I'm a telling you The fiddles and guitars really flew That Ford took off like a flying squirrel Flew halfway around the world Scattered wives and children All over the side of that mountain
Got to California so dad-gum broke So dad-gum hungry I thought I'd choke I bummed up a spud or two Wife fixed up some tater stew We poured the kids full of it Looked like a tribe of thy-mometers arunning around
Lord, man, I swear to you That was surely mighty thin stew So damn thin I really mean You could read a magizine Right through it..look at the pictures too Purty whiskey bottles..naked women
Always have thought, always figured If that damn stew had been a little thinner Some of these here politicians Could of seen through it
@hardtimes filename[ DUSTBOWL SF ===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY
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