This land is
your land This land is my land
From California to the New York
island;
From the red wood forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This
land was made for you and Me. As I was
walking that ribbon of highway,
I saw above me that endless
skyway:
I saw below me that golden valley:
This
land was made for you and me. I've roamed
and rambled and I followed my footsteps
To the sparkling
sands of her diamond deserts;
And all around me a voice was
sounding:
This land was made for you and me. When the sun
came shining, and I was strolling,
And the wheat fields
waving and the dust clouds rolling,
As the fog was lifting a
voice was chanting:
This land was made for you and me. As I went
walking I saw a sign there
And on the sign it said "No
Trespassing."
But on the other side it didn't say nothing,
That
side was made for you and me. In the shadow
of the steeple I saw my people,
By the relief office I seen
my people;
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking
Is
this land made for you and me? Nobody living
can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody
living can ever make me turn back
This land was made for you
and me. ©
Copyright 1956 (renewed), 1958 (renewed), 1970 and 1972 Ludlow Music,
Inc. | 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
Words
and Music by Woody Guthrie
© Copyright 1960 (renewed)
and 1963 (renewed) by TRO-Ludlow
Music, Inc. |
