Pastures Of Plenty - Woody Guthrie (Cover)

Original:    • Pastures of Plenty - Woody Guthrie  

Lyrics:

It's a mighty hard row that my poor hand has hoed
My poor feet have travelled a hot dusty road
Out of your dust bowl and westward we rolled
and your desert was hot, and your mountains were cold

I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes
Slept on the ground in the light of your moon
On the edge of your city you'll see us and then,
We come with the dust and we go with the wind

California and Arizona, I harvest your crops
Then it's north up to Oregon to gather your hops
Dig the beets your ground, cut the grapes from your vine,
To set on your table your light sparkling wine

Green pastures of plenty, from dry desert ground
From the Grand Coulee Dam where the waters run down
Every state in this union us migrants have been
We work in this fight, and we'll fight till we win

It's always we've rambled, that river and I
All along your green valley, I'll work till I die
My land I'll defend with my life if it be
Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free