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This land is your land and this land is my land
From California to the New York island From the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters This land was made for you and me As I went walking that ribbon of highway I saw above me that endless skyway Saw below me that golden valley This land was made for you and me I roamed and rambled and I've followed my footsteps To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts All around me a voice was sounding This land was made for you and me When the sun come shining, then I was strolling And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling The voice was chanting as the fog was lifting This land was made for you and me This land is your land and this land is my land From California to the New York island From the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters This land was made for you and me When the sun come shining, then I was strolling And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling The voice come a-chanting and the fog was lifting This land was made for you and me |
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Lots of folks back East, they say, is leavin' home every day,
Beatin' the hot old dusty way to the California line. 'Cross the desert sands they roll, gettin' out of that old dust bowl, They think they're goin' to a sugar bowl, but here's what they find Now, the police at the port of entry say, "You're number fourteen thousand for today." Oh, if you ain't got the do re mi, folks, you ain't got the do re mi, Why, you better go back to beautiful Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Georgia, Tennessee. California is a garden of Eden, a paradise to live in or see; But believe it or not, you won't find it so hot If you ain't got the do re mi. You want to buy you a home or a farm, that can't deal nobody harm, Or take your vacation by the mountains or sea. Don't swap your old cow for a car, you better stay right where you are, Better take this little tip from me. 'Cause I look through the want ads every day But the headlines on the papers always say: If you ain't got the do re mi, boys, you ain't got the do re mi, Why, you better go back to beautiful Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Georgia, Tennessee. California is a garden of Eden, a paradise to live in or see; But believe it or not, you won't find it so hot If you ain't got the do re mi. |
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It's a mighty hard row that my poor hands have hoed
My poor feet have traveled a hot dusty road Out of your Dust Bowl and Westward we rolled And your deserts were hot and your mountains were cold I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes I slept on the ground in the light of the moon On the edge of the city you'll see us and then We come with the dust and we go with the wind California, Arizona, I harvest your crops Well its North up to Oregon to gather your hops Dig the beets from your ground, cut the grapes from your vine To set on your table your light sparkling wine Green pastures of plenty from dry desert ground From the Grand Coulee Dam where the waters run down Every state in the Union us migrants have been We'll work in this fight and we'll fight till we win It's always we rambled, that river and I All along your green valley, I will work till I die My land I'll defend with my life if it be Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free |
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(My Daddy)
Well, a curly-headed girl with a bright shining smile Heard the roar of a plane as it sailed through the sky To her playmates she said, with a bright twinkling eye My Daddy flies that ship in the sky My Daddy flies that ship in the sky My Daddy flies that ship in the sky My Mama's not afraid and neither am I 'Cause my Daddy flies that ship in the sky Then a button-nosed kid, as he kicked up his heels He said, My Daddy works in the iron and the steel My Dad builds the planes and they fly through the sky And that's what keeps your daddy up there so high That's what keeps your daddy up there so high That's what keeps your daddy up there so high My Dad builds the planes and they fly through the sky And that's what keeps your daddy up there so high Then a freckle-faced kid pinched his toe in the sand He says, My Daddy works at that place where they land You tell your mama, don't be afraid My Dad'll bring your daddy back home again My Dad'll bring your daddy back home again My Dad'll bring your daddy back home again Don't be afraid when it gets dark and rains My Dad'll bring your daddy back home again |
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Have you heard of a ship called the good Reuben James
Manned by hard fighting men both of honor and fame? She flew the Stars and Stripes of the land of the free But tonight she's in her grave at the bottom of the sea. Tell me what were their names, tell me what were their names, Did you have a friend on the good Reuben James? What were their names, tell me, what were their names? Did you have a friend on the good Reuben James Well, a hundred men went down in that dark watery grave When that good ship went down only forty-four were saved. 'Twas the last day of October we saved the forty-four From the cold ocean waters and the cold icy shore. It was there in the dark of that uncertain night That we watched for the U-boats and waited for a fight. Then a whine and a rock and a great explosion roared And they laid the Reuben James on that cold ocean floor. Now tonight there are lights in our country so bright In the farms and in the cities they're telling of the fight. And now our mighty battleships will steam the bounding main And remember the name of that good Reuben James. |
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Jesus Christ was a man who traveled through the land
Hard working man and brave He said to the rich, "Give your goods to the poor." So they laid Jesus Christ in his grave. Jesus was a man, a carpenter by hand His followers true and brave One dirty little coward called Judas Iscariot Has laid Jesus Christ in his grave He went to the sick, he went to the poor, And he went to the hungry and the lame; Said that the poor would one day win this world, And so they laid Jesus Christ in his grave. He went to the preacher, he went to the sheriff, Told them all the same; Sell all of your jewelry and give it to the Poor, But they laid Jesus Christ in his grave. When Jesus came to town, the working folks around, Believed what he did say; The bankers and the preachers they nailed him on a cross, And they laid Jesus Christ in his grave. Poor working people, they follered him around, Sung and shouted gay; Cops and the soldiers, they nailed him in the air, And they nailed Jesus Christ in his grave. Well the people held their breath when they heard about his death, And everybody wondered why; It was the landlord and the soldiers that he hired. That nailed Jesus Christ in the sky. When the love of the poor shall one day turn to hate. When the patience of the workers gives away "Would be better for you rich if you never had been born" So they laid Jesus Christ in his grave. This song was written in New York City Of rich men, preachers and slaves Yes, if Jesus was to preach like he preached in Galillee, They would lay Jesus Christ in his grave. sung to Jesse James |
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The lonesomest sound, boys,
I ever heard sound, boys, On the stroke of midnight, Hear the curfew blow. My buddy will hang, boys, On the hangman's rope, boys, On the Gallus Pole, boys, When the curfew blows. Hear the curfew blowing, Hear the curfew blowing, In the coal black midnight, Hear the curfew blow. The sheriff's men, boys, Are on my trail, boys, In the midnight wind, boys, Hear the curfew blow. And when they catch me, My body will hang, boys, On the Gallus Pole, boys, When the curfew blows. Hear the curfew blowing, Hear the curfew blowing, In the coal black midnight, Hear the curfew blow. |
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Take a trip with me in 1913,
To Calumet, Michigan, in the copper country. I will take you to a place called Italian Hall, Where the miners are having their big Christmas ball. I will take you in a door and up a high stairs, Singing and dancing is heard everywhere, I will let you shake hands with the people you see, And watch the kids dance around the big Christmas tree. You ask about work and you ask about pay, They'll tell you they make less than a dollar a day, Working the copper claims, risking their lives, So it's fun to spend Christmas with children and wives. There's talking and laughing and songs in the air, And the spirit of Christmas is there everywhere, Before you know it you're friends with us all, And you're dancing around and around in the hall. Well a little girl sits down by the Christmas tree lights, To play the piano so you gotta keep quiet, To hear all this fun you would not realize, That the copper boss' thug men are milling outside. The copper boss' thugs stuck their heads in the door, One of them yelled and he screamed, "there's a fire," A lady she hollered, "there's no such a thing. Keep on with your party, there's no such thing." A few people rushed and it was only a few, "It's just the thugs and the scabs fooling you," A man grabbed his daughter and carried her down, But the thugs held the door and he could not get out. And then others followed, a hundred or more, But most everybody remained on the floor, The gun thugs they laughed at their murderous joke, While the children were smothered on the stairs by the door. Such a terrible sight I never did see, We carried our children back up to their tree, The scabs outside still laughed at their spree, And the children that died there were seventy-three. The piano played a slow funeral tune, And the town was lit up by a cold Christmas moon, The parents they cried and the miners they moaned, "See what your greed for money has done." |
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I went down to the fishing hole
And I set down with my fishing pole Something grabbed my hook and it got my bait And it jerked me out in the middle of the lake Some jump, I got sunk Baptized on credit Fishing down on the muddy bank Felt a pull and give a big yank I hauled out three old rubber boots And a Ford radiator and a Chevrolet coupe Handed it in for National Defence Settin' in a boat with a bucket of beer And I hadn't caught nothin' but I didn't much care I guess I was pretty well satisfied I had my little lady right by my side Takin' it easy. just a-waitin' Worm been gone off that hook for couple hours When you go fishin', I'll tell you what to do You go set down by the grassy slough Take a piece of string and tie it on your pole And throw it way out in the middle of the hole Find you a good shade tree and then just set down Go to sleep, forget all about it Jumped in the river and went down deep There was a hundred pound catfish lying there asleep Jumped on his back and rode him into town Saddled him up and I come to town People came runnin', lookin' Dogs a-barkin', kids a-squallin' Stagnate water's a stinkin' thing Slick on top and all turned green When the water goes bad, the fish all run Sit all day and not catch a-one 'Cept ???, ??? Few little suckers I waded out to a sandy bar And I caught myself a big alligator gar Brung him home across my back Tail was dragging a mile and a half Flippin' and floppin' Sold him for a quarter Shot craps, got in jail Early one mornin', I took me a notion To go out a-fishin' in the middle of the ocean Throwed out my line, I caught me a shark I didn't get him home 'til way past dark He a man-eater, tough customer Just wasn't quite tough enough Late last night I had me a dream I was out fishin' in a whiskey stream Baited my hook with apple-jack Threw out a drink and bring a gallon back Done pretty good 'til the creek run dry So I gave my fish back to the finance company |
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Jackhammer Jackhammer
Where you been Been out chasin them Gals again Ho ho ho Well I got them See my woman When the sun goes down Grab my hammer And go to town Yes Folks I got them Jackhammer blues Made every state in the red white and blue Looking for a jackhammer job to do Rise easy I got them Jackhammer blues Got a Jackhammer woman Just as sweet as pie Gonna Hammer on the hammer Till the day I die Lord God have mercy I got them Jackhammer Blues |
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If you'll gather 'round me, children,
A story I will tell 'Bout Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw, Oklahoma knew him well. It was in the town of Shawnee, A Saturday afternoon, His wife beside him in his wagon As into town they rode. There a deputy sheriff approached him In a manner rather rude, Vulgar words of anger, An' his wife she overheard. Pretty Boy grabbed a log chain, And the deputy grabbed his gun; In the fight that followed He laid that deputy down. Then he took to the trees and timber To live a life of shame; Every crime in Oklahoma Was added to his name. But a many a starving farmer The same old story told How the outlaw paid their mortgage And saved their little homes. Others tell you 'bout a stranger That come to beg a meal, Underneath his napkin Left a thousand dollar bill. It was in Oklahoma City, It was on a Christmas Day, There was a whole car load of groceries Come with a note to say: Well, you say that I'm an outlaw, You say that I'm a thief. Here's a Christmas dinner For the families on relief. Yes, as through this world I've wandered I've seen lots of funny men; Some will rob you with a six-gun, And some with a fountain pen. And as through your life you travel, Yes, as through your life you roam, You won't never see an outlaw Drive a family from their home. |
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Come all you old time cowboys,
And listen to my song, Please do not grow weary, I'll not detain you long. Concerning some wild cowboys, Who did agree to go, Spend the summer pleasant, On the trail of the Buffalo. I found myself in Griffin, In the spring of '83, When a well known famous drover, Came walking up to me. Said, "How do you do, young fellow, Well how would you like to go, And spend the summer pleasant, On the trail of the Buffalo?" Well I being out of work right then, To the drover I did say, "Going out on the Buffalo Road, Depends on the pay. If you will pay good wages, And transportation to and fro, I think I might go with you, On the hunt of the Buffalo." "Of course I'll pay good wages, And transportation too, If you will agree to work for me, Until the season's through." But if you do get homesick, And try to run away, You will starve to death, Out on the trail and also lose your pay." Well with all his flattering talking, He signed up quite a train, Some 10 or 12 in number, Some able bodied men. The trip it was a pleasant one, As we hit the westward road, Until we crossed old Boggy Creek, In old New Mexico. There our pleasures ended, And our troubles began. A lightening storm hit us, And made the cattle run. Got all full of stickers, From the cactus that did not grow, And the outlaws watching, To pick us off in the hills of Mexico. Well our working season ended, And the drover would not pay, If you had not drunk too much, You are all in debt to me. But the cowboys never had heard, Such a thing as a bankrupt law, So we left that drover's bones to bleach, On the Plains of the Buffalo. |
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