Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tom Joad, artist - Patrick Street. Album song No. 2 Patrick Street, in the genre Кельтская музыка
Date of issue: 14.03.2006
Record label: Green Linnet
Song language: English
Tom Joad |
Tom Joad got out of the old McAlester Pen |
There he got his parole |
After four long years on a man killing charge |
Tom Joad come a-walkin' down the road, poor boy |
Tom Joad come a-walkin' down the road |
Tom Joad, he met a truck driving man |
There he caught him a ride |
He said, I just got loose from McAlester Pen |
On a charge called homicide |
A charge called homicide |
That truck rolled away in a cloud of dust |
Tommy turned his face toward home |
He met Preacher Casey, and they had a little drink |
But they found that his family they was gone |
He found that his family they was gone |
He found his mother’s old fashion shoe |
Found his daddy’s hat |
And he found little Muley and Muley said |
They’ve been tractored out by the cats |
They’ve been tractored out by the cats |
Tom Joad walked down to the neighbor’s farm |
Found his family |
They took Preacher Casey and loaded in a car |
And his mother said, We’ve got to get away |
His mother said, We’ve got to get away |
Now, the twelve of the Joads made a mighty heavy load |
But Grandpa Joad did cry |
He picked up a handful of land in his hand |
Said: I’m stayin' with the farm till I die |
Yes, I’m stayin' with the farm till I die |
They fed him short ribs and coffee and soothing syrup |
And Grandpa Joad did die |
They buried Grandpa Joad by the side of the road |
Grandma on the California side |
They buried Grandma on the California side |
They stood on a mountain and they looked to the west |
And it looked like the promised land |
That bright green valley with a river running through |
There was work for every single hand, they thought |
There was work for every single hand |
The Joads rolled away to the jungle camp |
There they cooked a stew |
And the hungry little kids of the jungle camp |
Said: We’d like to have some, too |
Said: We’d like to have some, too |
Now a deputy sheriff fired loose at a man |
Shot a woman in the back |
Before he could take his aim again |
Preacher Casey dropped him in his track, poor boy |
Preacher Casey dropped him in his track |
They handcuffed Casey and they took him in jail |
And then he got away |
And he met Tom Joad on the old river bridge |
And these few words he did say, poor boy |
These few words he did say |
I preached for the Lord a mighty long time |
Preached about the rich and the poor |
Us workin' folkses, all get together |
Cause we ain’t got a chance anymore |
We ain’t got a chance anymore |
Now, the deputies come, and Tom and Casey run |
To the bridge where the water run down |
But the vigilante thugs hit Casey with a club |
They laid Preacher Casey on the ground, poor Casey |
They laid Preacher Casey on the ground |
Tom Joad, he grabbed that deputy’s club |
Hit him over the head |
Tom Joad took flight in the dark rainy night |
And a deputy and a preacher lying dead, two men |
A deputy and a preacher lying dead |
Tom run back where his mother was asleep |
He woke her up out of bed |
An' he kissed goodbye to the mother that he loved |
Said what Preacher Casey said, Tom Joad |
He said what Preacher Casey said |
Ever’body might be just one big soul |
Well it looks that a-way to me |
Everywhere that you look, in the day or night |
That’s where I’m a-gonna be, Ma |
That’s where I’m a-gonna be |
Wherever little children are hungry and cry |
Wherever people ain’t free |
Wherever men are fightin' for their rights |
That’s where I’m a-gonna be, Ma |
That’s where I’m a-gonna be |