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  • It's a mighty hard row that my poor hands have hoed
    My poor feet have traveled a hot dusty road
    Out of your
    Dust Bowl and
    Westward we rolled
    And your deserts were hot and your mountains were cold
    I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes
    I slept on the ground in the light of the moon
    On the edge of the city you'll see us and then
    We come with the dust and we go with the wind
    California,
    Arizona, I harvest your crops
    Well its 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 sparkling wine
    Green pastures of plenty from dry desert ground
    From the Grand
    Coulee Dam where the waters run down
    Every state in the
    Union us migrants have been
    We'll work in this fight and we'll fight till we win
    It's always we rambled, that river and
    I All along your green valley,
    I will work till
    I die My land
    I'll defend with my life if it be
    Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free
  • It's a mighty hard row that my poor hands have hoed
    My poor feet have traveled a hot dusty road
    Out of your
    Dust Bowl and
    Westward we rolled
    And your deserts were hot and your mountains were cold
    I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes
    I slept on the ground in the light of the moon
    On the edge of the city you'll see us and then
    We come with the dust and we go with the wind
    California,
    Arizona, I harvest your crops
    Well its 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 sparkling wine
    Green pastures of plenty from dry desert ground
    From the Grand
    Coulee Dam where the waters run down
    Every state in the
    Union us migrants have been
    We'll work in this fight and we'll fight till we win
    It's always we rambled, that river and
    I All along your green valley,
    I will work till
    I die My land
    I'll defend with my life if it be
    Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free