Washington Talkin´ Blues - Woody Guthrie

Long about nineteen twentynine

I owned a little farm, was a doin' just fine

Raised a little row crop raised some wheat

Sold it over at the county seat

Drawed the money.

Raised a family

But the dust came along, and the price went down

Didn’t have the money when the bank come around;

Tumble weeds and the black dust blowed

So we hit the trail to the land where the waters floed

Way out across yonder somewhere

Well, the hot old rocks and the desert sand

Made my mind run back to the dust bowl land

But my hopes was high and we rolled along

To the Columbia River up in Washington

Lots of good rain, Little piece of land.

Feller might grow something

We settled down on some cut over land

Pulled up brush and the stumps by hand

Hot sun burnt up my first crop of wheat

And the river down the canyon just 500 feet

Might as we of been 50 miles.

Couldn’t get no water

We loaded our belongings and we lit out for town

Seen the old vacant houses and farms all around

And folks a leaving out, if you’re asking me

That’s as lonesome as sight as a feller can see

Good land.

Grow anything you plant, long as you can get the moisture

I struck a lumber town and heard the big saw sing

And when business is good, why lumber’s king;

I went to lookin' for a job but the man said no

So we hit the skids on the old skid row

Traipsing up and down.

Chasing a bite to eat.

Kids hungry

Heard about a job, so we hit the wheat

Made about enough for the kids to eat

Picked in the berries, gathered in the fruit

Hops, peaches, and the apples, too

Slept in just about everything except a good warm bed

Been to Arizona, been to California, too

Found the people was plenty but the jobs was few;

Well maybe it’s like the feller said

When they ain’t enough arok, well, business is dead

Sorta ailin'.

Ain’t no money a changin' hands, just people changing places.

Folks wastin gasoline a’chasin' around

Now what we need is a great big dam

To throw a lot of water out acrost that land

People could work and the stuff would grow

And you could wave goodbye to the old Skid Row

Work hard, raise all kinds of stuff, kids, too.

Take it easy