Kingston Trio Pastures Of Plenty Lyrics

Pastures Of Plenty Lyrics

Woody Guthrie



It's a mighty hard road that my poor hands have hoed. My poor feet have
traveled a hot, dusty road.

Out of your dust bowls and westward we rode. Your deserts were hot and your
mountains were cold.

I've wandered all over this green growing land. Wherever your crops were, I've
lent you my hands.

On the edge of your city you'll see me and then, I come with the dust and I go
with the wind.



California, Arizona, I've worked all your crops. Then it's North up to Oregon
to gather your hops.

Dig the beets from your ground. Cut the grapes from your vines to set on your
table that 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 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
'til I die.

And I'll travel this road until death sets me free for my pastures of plenty
must always be green.



I come with the dust and I go with the wind.