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  • 'Long about nineteen thirty-one,
    My field boiled up in the boiling sun.
    'Long about nineteen thirty-two,
    Dust did rise and the dust it blew.
    'Long about nineteen thirty-three,
    Livin' in the dust was a killin' me.
    'Long about nineteen thirty-four,
    Dangburn dust it blew some more.
    'Long about nineteen thirty-five,
    Blowed my crops about nine miles high.
    'Long about nineteen thirty-six,
    Me and my wife in a devil of a fix.
    'Long about nineteen thirty-nine
    We fanned our tails for that Orgegon line.
    We got a hold of a piece of land,
    Thirteen miles from the Coulee dam.
    Coulee dam is a sight to see,
    Makes this e-lec-a-tric-i-tee
    'Lectric lights is mighty fine,
    If you're hooked on to the power line
    There just ain't no country extra fine.
    If you're just a mile from the end o' the line.
    Milk my cows and turn my stone,
    Till them Grand Coullee boys come along.
    My eyes are crossed, my back's in a cramp,
    Tryin' to read my bible by my coal-oil lamp.
    No, there ain't no country worth a dime,
    If I'm just a mile from the end o' the line.
  • 'Long about nineteen thirty-one,
    My field boiled up in the boiling sun.
    'Long about nineteen thirty-two,
    Dust did rise and the dust it blew.
    'Long about nineteen thirty-three,
    Livin' in the dust was a killin' me.
    'Long about nineteen thirty-four,
    Dangburn dust it blew some more.
    'Long about nineteen thirty-five,
    Blowed my crops about nine miles high.
    'Long about nineteen thirty-six,
    Me and my wife in a devil of a fix.
    'Long about nineteen thirty-nine
    We fanned our tails for that Orgegon line.
    We got a hold of a piece of land,
    Thirteen miles from the Coulee dam.
    Coulee dam is a sight to see,
    Makes this e-lec-a-tric-i-tee
    'Lectric lights is mighty fine,
    If you're hooked on to the power line
    There just ain't no country extra fine.
    If you're just a mile from the end o' the line.
    Milk my cows and turn my stone,
    Till them Grand Coullee boys come along.
    My eyes are crossed, my back's in a cramp,
    Tryin' to read my bible by my coal-oil lamp.
    No, there ain't no country worth a dime,
    If I'm just a mile from the end o' the line.

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