Pastures of Plenty
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Lyrics
Well it's a mighty hard row my poor hands have hoe
My poor feet have traveled the hot dusty road
Out of your dust bowl and westward we rode
Your deserts were hot, your mountains were cold
I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes
Slept on the ground by the light of your moon
On the edge of your cities you will see us and then
We come with the dust, we're gone with the wind
California, Arizona, I made all your crops
And it's north up to Oregon to harvest your hops
Dig the beets from your ground, pick the grapes from your vines
To set on your tables your light sparkling wine
It's 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
And we'll work in this fight, we'll fight 'til we win
And it's always we ramble this river and I
All along your green valleys I will work 'til I die
And this land I'll defend with my life if need be
For my pastures of plenty must always be free