Tulare Dust

Tulare dust in a farm boy's nose
Wondering where the freight train goes
Standin' in the field by the railroad track
Cursin' the strap on my cotton sack

I can see mom and dad with shoulders low
Both of 'em pickin' on a double row
They do it for a livin' because they must
That's life like it is in the Tulare dust

The California sun was something new
That winter we arrived in '42
And I can still remember how my daddy cussed
The tumbleweeds here in the Tulare dust

The valley fever was a common fate
To the farmworkers here in the Golden State
And I miss Oklahoma but I'll stay
If I must and help make a livin' in the Tulare dust

The Tulare dust in a farm boy's nose
Wondering where the freight train goes
Standin' in the field by the railroad track
Cursin' the strap on my cotton sack

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Стерео

1.Может это всё скоро закончится. В комнате пустой я и одиночество. Может, это бред или неправильно... Нет, нет,нет- у меня свои правила! Вижу на просвет каждую клеточку. А по сторонам - мальчики,девочки. Всё чего-то ждут, Просто не