Harvest Gypsies

Intro: In October we will come, a hundred and fifty thousand strong, When the picking's over, we'll be gone, they call us the har - vest gypsies! We only come be - cause we must, we are driven here by dust, And they won't even look at us, they call us the har - vest gypsies! And the hardest that it's ever been, I sold my blankets for gaso - line, And it's only hunger I have seen, now I'm a har - vest gypsy! ||: Oh---oh, oh, oh, oh! /___/ /___/ /___/ :|| x3 | / / / / | / / / / | And there's apricots in Santa Clare, at Kern County they have apples there, And grapes they're growing every - where, all for the har - vest gypsies! In a walnut grove I met a man, who lost his child be - fore San Fran', We're strangers they don't un - derstand, we are the har - vest gypsies! And the gondalas and railway lines, filled with men when it is time, Drawn by the orange and the lime, all the har - vest gypsies! ||: Oh---oh, oh, oh, oh! /___/ /___/ /___/ :|| x3 | / / / / | / / / / | They hate it when their taxes rise, and the squatter camps that they des - pise, With - out us they would rot and die, without the har - vest gypsies! And the Holbrook's, we were farming men, and I dream, one day, we will a - gain, To miss the soil's a curious pain, when you're a har - vest gypsy! ||: Oh---oh, oh, oh, oh! /___/ /___/ /___/ :|| x3 When you're a harvest gypsy, yeah - eah! ||: Oh---oh, oh, oh, oh! /___/ /___/ /___/ :|| x3 When you're a harvest gyp - sy!