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Pastures of Plenty
Woody Guthrie
,
Will Geer
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Yes, guess I'm what you'd call a migrant worker
Guess you had to think up some kind of a name for me
I travel, yes, if that's what you mean
In your red tape and your scary offices
But you can just call me any old word you want to
You just set and call me off a whole book full of names
But let me be out on my job while you're doing the callin'
That-a-way we can save time and money and get more work turned out
I ain't nothin' much but a guy walkin' along
You can't hardly pick me out in a big crowd
I look so much like everybody else
Streets, parks, big places, I travel, hell yes, I travel
Ain't you glad I travel and work?
If I was to stop, you'd have to up
And leave your job and start travelin'
Because there's a hell of a lot of travelin's got to be done
It's a mighty hard road that my poor hand has hoed
My poor feet has traveled a hard dusty road
Out of your dust bowl and westward we rolled
And your desert was hot and your mountains was cold
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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've seen us and then
We come with the dust and we go with the wind
California and Arizona, I make all your crops
And it's north up to Oregon to gather your hops
Dig the beets from your ground, cut the grapes from your vine
To set on your table your light sparklin' wine
Green pastures of plenty from dry desert ground
From that Grand Coulee Dam where the water runs down
Every state in this Union us migrants have been
To work in this fight and we'll fight till we win
Well, it's always we 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
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