Talking Dust Bowl Blues

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    Back in nineteen twenty-seven,
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    I had a little farm and I called that heaven.
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    Well, the prices up and the rain come down,
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    and I hauled my crops all into town.
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    I got the money, bought clothes and groceries,
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    fed the kids, and raised a family.

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    Rain quit and the wind got high,
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    and the black ol' dust storm filled the sky.
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    And I swapped my farm for a Ford machine,
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    and I poured it full of this gas-i-line.
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     And I started, rockin' an' a-rollin',
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    over the mountains, out towards the old Peach Bowl.

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    Way up yonder on a mountain road,
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    I had a hot motor and a heavy load,
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    I's a-goin' pretty fast, there wasn't even stoppin',
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    a-bouncin' up and down, like popcorn poppin'.
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    Had a breakdown, sort of a nervous bustdown of some kind,
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    there was a feller there, a mechanic feller, said it was en-gine trouble.

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    Way up yonder on a mountain curve,
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    it's way up yonder in the piney wood,
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    an' I give that rollin' Ford a shove,
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    an' I's a-gonna coast as far as I could.
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    Commence coastin', pickin' up speed,
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    was a hairpin turn, I didn't make it.

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    Man alive, I'm a-tellin' you,
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    the fiddles and the guitars really flew.
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    That Ford took off like a flying squirrel
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    an' it flew halfway around the world,
A
    scattered wives and childrens
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    all over the side of that mountain.

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    We got out to the West Coast broke,
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    so dad-gum hungry I thought I'd croak,
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    an' I bummed up a spud or two,
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    an' my wife fixed up a tater stew.
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    We poured the kids full of it, mighty thin stew, though,
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   you could read a magazine right through it.
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    Always have figured that if it'd been just a little bit thinner,
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    some of these here politicians coulda seen through it.