On a sign I saw hanging in the store today
It said in big bright red letters there's work in California
There's an honest job waiting for every good man
Nobody goes hungry you pick the peaches with your hand
Cause the cotton don't grow here if it never rains
And the wind starts to blow here and it blows right through your brain
It'll carry away what the locust doesn't get
And the bills don't get paid >and the bank takes the rest
Fight with the land till it hurts and you don't know what for
You might call me the salt of the earth but I call me dirt poor
And the dust coming over the plains doesn't care about me
See it fill up the sky that's all the convincing I need
When all I'll be leaving behind me is ashes and rust
Mama pack up the truck California or bust
Say goodbye to the dust
My grandfather came out here in 1841
My father was born here and all of his sons
And he built this whole place with his two strong hands
When he died he had faith in hard work and good land
In the Great War we planted cotton the army needed cloth
My dad said get in on the boom, boy there's no time to be lost
So he got a new mortgage the American way
Then the wind came out of nowhere and it wouldn't go away
Fight with the land till it hurts and you don't know what for
You may call me the salt of the earth but I call me dirt poor
And the dust coming over the plains doesn't care about me
See it fill up the sky that's all the convincing I need
When all I'll be leaving behind me is ashes and rust
Mama pack up the truck California or bust
Say goodbye to the dust
And the dust is coming
Coming, the dust keeps on coming
Writer(s): Tony Carey
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