AWA

Talkin' Dust Bowl

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  • 2007.01.01
  • 2:22
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Guthrie Back in nineteen twenty seven I had a little farm, I called that Heaven. The prices up and the rain come down And I hauled my crops all into town, I got the money Bought clothes and groceries Fed the kids and raised a big family. But the rain quit and the wind got high A black old dust storm filled the sky. I traded my farm for a Ford machine Poured it full of this gasoline Started rocking and rolling Deserts and mountains to California. Way up yonder on a mountain road Hot motor and a heavy load Going pretty fast I wasn't even stopping Bouncing up and down like popcorn popping I had a breakdown — Kind of a nervous bustdown. The mechanic fellow there charged me five bucks, Said it was engine trouble. Way up yonder on a mountain curve Way up yonder in the piney wood I gave that rolling Ford a shove And I coast as far as I could Commencing rolling Picking up speed Come a hairpin turn and... I didn't make it. No man alive I'm telling you That the fiddles and the guitars really flew. That Ford took off like a flying squirrel And it flew halfway around the world Scattered the wives and children All over the side of that mountain. Got to California so dad gum broke Dad gum hungry that I thought I'd choke. I bummed up a spud or two And a wife fixed up some 'tater stew. We poured the kids full of it Mighty skinny kids Looked like a tribe of thermometers running around. No man I swear to you That was surely mighty thin stew So damn thin I really mean You could read a magazine right through it Look at the pictures, too Pretty whisky bottles and naked women. Always have thought and always have figured That if that damn stew had been just a little bit thinner Some of these here politicians could have seen through it.

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