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    It's a mighty hard row that my poor hands have hoed
    My poor feet have traveled that hot dusty road
    Out of the dust bowl and westward we rolled
    Your desert was hot and your mountains were cold

    I've worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes
    I've slept on the ground in the light of your moon
    On the edge of your city you've seen us and then
    We come with the dust and we go with the wind

    California, Arizona, I make all your crops
    Then north up to Oregon to gather your hogs
    Pull 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 water runs down
    Every state in this union us migrants have been
    We'll work in your fight and we'll fight til we win

    Well it's always we ramble that river and I
    All along your green valley I'll work til I die
    My land I'll defend with my life if need be
    Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free

    2.-

    This land is your land, 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.

    I roamed and rambled, and I followed my footsteps
    To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts
    And all around me a voice was singing
    This land was made for you and me!

    This land is your land, 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
    I saw below me those golden valleys
    This land was made for you and me!

    This land is your land, 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 the sun was shining, and I was strolling,
    And the wheat fields waving, and the dust clouds rolling,
    As the fog was lifting, a voice was saying
    ";This land was made for you and me!";

    This land is your land, 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.

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