Текст пісні
It's a mighty hard road my poor hands have hoed
My poor feet have traveled this hot dusty road
Out of your dust bowl and westward we rolled
Through deserts so hot and through mountains so cold
I've wandered all over your green growing land
Wherever your crops are I'll lend you my hand
On the edge of your cities you'll see me and then
I come with the dust and I'm gone with the wind
California, Arizona, I've worked on your crops
Then northward up to Oregon to gather your hops
I dug beets from your ground, I've cut grapes from the vine
I sat on your table, I've had a life sparkling wine
Green pastures of plenty from dry desert ground
From the Grand Coulee Dam where waters run down
Every state of this union migrants have been
We come with the dust and we're gone with the wind
It's always we ramble that river and I
All along your green valley I work till I die
I'll travel this road until death sets me free
'Cause pastures of plenty must always be free
Well I've wandered all over your green growing land
Wherever your crops are I'll lend you my hand
On the edge of your cities you will see me and then
I come with the dust and I'm gone with the wind