Текст песни
It's a mighty high load that my poor hands have borne
My poor feet have traveled a hot dusty road
Out of your dust bowl and westward we rode
Through deserts so hot and your mountains so cold
California, Arizona, I've worked all your crops
Then north up to Washington to gather your hops
On the edge of your cities you'll see me and then
I come with the dust and I'm gone with the wind
Green pastures up plenty from dry desert ground
From the Grand Coulee Dam where the water runs down
Every state of this union us migrants have been
We come with the dust and we're gone with the wind
We come with the dust and we're gone with the wind
We come with the dust and we're gone with the wind