| I guess it’s no secret eh that I did a few years in San Quentin
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| And on my release I noticed that a lot of different things had come to pass
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| While I was out of circulation
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| Like the girls dresses were shorter and the freeways were wider
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| And the ole steam engines were gone forever
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| But the one thing I noticed most of all down through the San Joachin valley
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| Was the disapperance of so many labor camps
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| Where once I’d lived from time to time myself
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| I noticed that that one there at Houston California was gone
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| And the ole crown’s camp that lie between Formosa and Bakersfield
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| Was just a barren spot with a few cottonwood trees
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| And surrounded by an olive orchard
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| Tho a few still remain like the ole blackburn’s camp out on weepatch highway
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| It was an evident fact that someone was tryin' to do away with them all
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| And I couldn’t help but wonder what’s gonna happen to the farm workers
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| And the fruit pickers who move from town to town
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| The man with the big family who can’t afford the ole high standard of livin'
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| And was these thoughts and my mem’ries that inspired me to write this song
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| I came back to this ole town cause my home was here
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| And to try to find some things I’d left behind
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| Tho' I’ve only been away for just a few short years
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| But I’d forgot about the pace of modern times.
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| I saw changes all around me and some were good
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| But I hardly recognized my side of town
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| They tore down the swingin' casing from the cottowood
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| And that tree was all that marked familar ground.
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| Oh, they’re tearin' the labor camps down
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| And I feel a little sentimental shame
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| Where’s a hungry man gonna live at in this town
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| Oh, they’re tearin' the labor camps down.
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| The Hilltop family market had been moved somewhere
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| And the name was changed to fit the newer homes
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| The folks that I remember were no longer there
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| And the cabin that my daddy built was gone.
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| Oh, they’re tearin' the labor camps down
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| And I feel a little sentimental shame
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| Where’s a hungry man gonna live at in this town
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| Oh, they’re tearin' the labor camps down.
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| They’re tearin' the labor camps down
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| And I feel a little sentimental shame
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| Where’s a hungry man gonna live at in this town
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| Oh, they’re tearin' the labor camps down… |