Pastures Of Plenty

e|--0---------0--| B|--1---------1--| G|--0---------2--| D|--2---------2--| A|--3--3-2-0--0--| E|--x---------x--| Verse 1 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 Verse 2 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 Verse 3 I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes I slept on the ground in the light of the moon Every state in the Union us migrants have been We'll work in this fight and we'll fight till we win Verse 4 I slept on the ground in the light of the moon I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes Wherever your crops are, I'll lend you my hand I'll ramble all over your green growing land Verse 5 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 come with the dust and we go with the wind Verse 6 It's always we rambled, that river and I All along your green valley, I will work till I die This land I'll defend with my life if need be Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free