Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Washington Talkin' Blues, artist - Woody Guthrie. Date of issue: 05.11.2019
Song language: English
Washington Talkin' Blues |
| Long about nineteen twentynine |
| I owned a little farm, was a doin' just fine |
| Raised a little row crop raised some wheat |
| Sold it over at the county seat |
| Drawed the money. |
| Raised a family |
| But the dust came along, and the price went down |
| Didn’t have the money when the bank come around; |
| Tumble weeds and the black dust blowed |
| So we hit the trail to the land where the waters floed |
| Way out across yonder somewhere |
| Well, the hot old rocks and the desert sand |
| Made my mind run back to the dust bowl land |
| But my hopes was high and we rolled along |
| To the Columbia River up in Washington |
| Lots of good rain, Little piece of land. |
| Feller might grow something |
| We settled down on some cut over land |
| Pulled up brush and the stumps by hand |
| Hot sun burnt up my first crop of wheat |
| And the river down the canyon just 500 feet |
| Might as we of been 50 miles. |
| Couldn’t get no water |
| We loaded our belongings and we lit out for town |
| Seen the old vacant houses and farms all around |
| And folks a leaving out, if you’re asking me |
| That’s as lonesome as sight as a feller can see |
| Good land. |
| Grow anything you plant, long as you can get the moisture |
| I struck a lumber town and heard the big saw sing |
| And when business is good, why lumber’s king; |
| I went to lookin' for a job but the man said no |
| So we hit the skids on the old skid row |
| Traipsing up and down. |
| Chasing a bite to eat. |
| Kids hungry |
| Heard about a job, so we hit the wheat |
| Made about enough for the kids to eat |
| Picked in the berries, gathered in the fruit |
| Hops, peaches, and the apples, too |
| Slept in just about everything except a good warm bed |
| Been to Arizona, been to California, too |
| Found the people was plenty but the jobs was few; |
| Well maybe it’s like the feller said |
| When they ain’t enough arok, well, business is dead |
| Sorta ailin'. |
| Ain’t no money a changin' hands, just people changing places. |
| Folks wastin gasoline a’chasin' around |
| Now what we need is a great big dam |
| To throw a lot of water out acrost that land |
| People could work and the stuff would grow |
| And you could wave goodbye to the old Skid Row |
| Work hard, raise all kinds of stuff, kids, too. |
| Take it easy |