Letras de Pastures of Plenty

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 rode
Your deserts were hot and your mountains were cold

I've wandered all over this green growin′ land
Wherever your crops were I've lent you my hand
On the edge of the city you'll see me and then
I come with the dust and I go with the wind

California, Arizona, I work all your crops
Then it′s up north to Oregon to gather your hops
Dig the beets from your ground, cut the grapes from your vine
To set on your table that light sparklin′ wine

Green pastures of plenty from dry desert ground
From the Grand Coulee Dam where the waters run down
Every state in the union this migrant has been
I come with the dust and I go with the wind

It's always we ramble that river and I
All along your green valley I′ll work till I die
And I'll travel this road till death sets me free
′Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free
I come with the dust and I go with the wind