Woody Guthrie : Misc

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Take a trip with me in 1913

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To Calumet, Michigan, in the copper country

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I'll take you to a place called Italian Hall

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Where the miners are having their big Christmas ball I'll take you indoor, and up a high stair There's singin' and dancin', it's heard everywhere I'll let you shake hands with the people you see And watch the kids dance round the big Christmas tree There's singin' and dancin' and songs in the air An' the spirit of Christmas is there everywhere Before you know, you're friends with us all And you're dancin' around and around in the hall You ask about work and you ask about pay They'll tell you they make less than a dollar a day Just workin' the copper claims, riskin' their lives So it's fun to spend Christmas with children and wives A little girl sits by the Christmas tree lights To play piano, she gotta keep quiet To hear all this fun you would not realize That the copper-boss thug-men are millin' outside The copper-thugs stuck their heads through the door One of them yelled and he screamed, "There's a fire!" A lady, she hollered, "There's no such a thing! Keep on with your party, there's no such thing" A few people rushed, and it's only a few "It's just the scabs and the thugs foolin' you" A man grabbed his daughter and he carried her down But the thugs held the door and he could not get out And then others followed, a hundred or more But most everybody remained on the floor The scabs and the thugs they still laughed at their joke And the children were smothered on the stairs by the door Such a terrible sight I never did see We carried our children back up to their tree The scabs and the thugs they still laughed at their spree And the children that died there were seventy-three The piano played a slow funeral tune But the town was lit up by a cold Christmas moon The parents they weep and the miners they moan "See what your greed for money has done"

"Put 'er there boy!"

"We'll show these fascists what a couple of hillbillies can do!"

Intrumental verse as intro

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I'm gonna tell all you fascists, and you may be surprised

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The people in this world are getting organized

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You're bound to lose, you fascists, bound to lose

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All you fascists bound to lose!

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All you fascists bound to lose!

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All you fascists bound to lose!

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You're bound to lose! You fascists, bound to lose! There's people of every nation, marching side by side Marching 'cross these fields where a million fascists died You're bound to lose, you fascists, bound to lose All you fascists bound to lose... Race hatred cannot stop us. This one thing I know Your poll tax and Jim Crow greed have got to go You're bound to lose, you fascists, bound to lose All you fascists bound to lose... I'm going into this battle. Take my union gun We'll end this world of slavery before this battle's won You're bound to lose, you fascists, bound to lose All you fascists bound to lose... All you fascists bound to lose...

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Bury me beneath the willow

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'Neath that weeping willow tree

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When she comes she'll find me sleeping

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Then perhaps she'll think of me It's many a night while you're sleeping Sleeping in your sleeping clothes I'm a poor boy, broken hearted Listenin' to the wind that blows Bury me beneath the willow 'Neath that weeping willow tree When she comes she'll find me sleeping Then perhaps she'll think of me Tomorrow was to be our wedding God, oh Lord, where can she be She has gone to find another She no longer cares for me Bury me beneath the willow 'Neath that weeping willow tree When she comes she'll find me sleeping Then perhaps she'll think of me

From The Asch Recordings, Vol.2

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Well, I walked down to the railroad yard

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To watch a train roll by

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I knew the trains would roll that day

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But I did not know what time I did not know what time, poor boy Did not know what time I knew the trains would roll that day But I did not know what time |

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| Good morning, mister railroad man What time does your train roll by? Nine sixteen and two forty-four Twenty five minutes till five At nine sixteen and two forty-four Twenty five minutes till five Thank you, mister railroad man I wanna watch your trains roll by |

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| Standing on the platform Smoking a big cigar Waiting for some old freight train That carries an empty car I rode her down to Danville town Got stuck on a Danville girl You bet your life she was a pearl She wore that Danville curl She wore her hat on the back of her head Like high tone people all do The very next train come down that track I bid that gal adieu |

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The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting

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The oranges are packed in their creosote dumps

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They're flying 'em back to the Mexico border

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Csus4

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To take all their money to wade back again

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Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita

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Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria

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You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane

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All they will call you will be, "Deportees" My father's own father, he waded that river They took all the money he made in his life My brothers and sisters came workin' the fruit trees They rode the big trucks till they laid down and died Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane All they will call you will be, "Deportees" The sky-plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon A fireball of lightnin' an' it shook all the hills Who are these comrades, they're dying like the dry leaves? The radio tells me, "They're just deportees" We died in your hills and we died in your deserts We died in your valleys, we died in your plains We died 'neath your trees and we died 'neath your bushes Both sides of the river we died just the same Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane All they will call you will be, "Deportees" Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards? Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit? To die like the dry leaves and rot on my topsoil And be known by no name except "deportee" Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane All they will call you will be, "Deportees" All they will call you will be, "Deportees"

Capo:

II

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I just blowed in, and I got them dust bowl blues

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I just blowed in, and I got them dust bowl blues

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I just blowed in, and I'll blow back out again I guess you've heard about every kind of blues I guess you've heard about every kind of blues But when the dust gets high, you can't even see the sky I've seen the dust so black that I couldn't see a thing I've seen the dust so black that I couldn't see a thing And the wind so cold, boy, it nearly cut your water off I seen the wind so high that it blowed my fences down I've seen the wind so high that it blowed my fences down Buried my tractor six feet underground

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Well, it turned my farm into a pile of sand Yes, it turned my farm into a pile of sand I had to hit that road with a bottle in my hand

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I spent ten years down in that old dust bowl I spent ten years down in that old dust bowl When you get that dust pneumonia, boy, it's time to go I had a gal, and she was young and sweet I had a gal, and she was young and sweet But a dust storm buried her sixteen hundred feet She was a good gal, long, tall and stout Yes, she was a good gal, long, tall and stout I had to get a steam shovel just to dig my darlin' out

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These dusty blues are the dustiest ones I know These dusty blues are the dustiest ones I know Buried head over heels in the black old dust, I had to pack up and go An' I just blowed in, an' I'll soon blow out again...

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Well the world owns seven wonders as the travellers always tell

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Some gardens and some towers, I guess you know them well

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But now the greatest wonder is in Uncle Sam's fair land

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That King Columbia river and the great Grand Coulee Dam She come up the Canadian Rockies where the crystal waters glide Comes a-roaring down the canyon to meet that salty tide From the great Pacific Ocean to where the sun sets in the west That big Grand Coulee country in that land I love the best In the misty glitter of that wild and windward spray Men have fought the pounding waters and met a watery grave Once she tore men's boats to splinters but she gave men dreams to dream That day that Coulee dam went across that wild and restless stream Oh Uncle Sam took up the notion in the year of thirty three For the factory and the farmer and for all of you and me He said: roll it on Columbia, you can roll out to the sea But river, while you're rolling you can do some work for me Now from Washington and Oregon you can hear them factories a-hum Making chrome and making manganese and light aluminum Always a flying fortress to blast for Uncle Sam That King Columbia river and the great Grand Coulee dam Well the world owns seven wonders as the travellers always tell Some gardens and some towers, I guess you know them well But now the greatest wonder is in Uncle Sam's fair land That King Columbia river and the great Grand Coulee Dam

The following figure is played wherever there is a long

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Oh, I've been havin' some hard travelin', I thought you knowed

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I've been havin' some hard travelin', way down the road

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I've been havin' some hard travelin', hard ramblin', hard gamblin'

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An' I've been havin' some hard travelin', Lord Oh, I've been ridin' them blind passengers, I thought you knowed I've been ridin' in fast wheelers, way down the road Blind passengers, flat wheelers, dead enders, kicking up cinders An' I've been havin' some hard travelin', Lord Ooh, I've been workin' in a hard rock tunnel, I thought you knowed I've been pourin' red hot slag way down the road I've been a-blastin' an' I've been firin' an' I've been pourin' the red hot iron An' I've been havin' some hard travelin', Lord Oh, I've been walkin' that Lincoln Highway, I thought you knowed I've been hitchin' on the '66, way down the road Heavy load, a worried man, I'm a-lookin' for a woman that's a-hard to find I've been havin' some hard travelin', Lord Oh, I've been hittin' some hard harvestin', I thought you knowed North Dakota to Kansas City way down the road Bunchin' that wheat an' stacking that hay, trying to make about a dollar a day An' I've been havin' some hard travelin', Lord Oh, I've been locked in a hard rock jail, I thought you knowed I've been layin' out ninety days, way down the road The mean old judge he says to me, "That's a-ninety days for vagrancy" An' I've been hittin' some hard travelin', Lord Oh, I've been havin' some hard travelin', I thought you knowed I've been hittin' some hard travelin', way down the road I've been hittin' some hard travelin', hard ramblin', hard gamblin' An' I've been havin' some hard travelin', Lord

Capo:

II

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It's a mighty hard row that my poor hands have hoed My poor feet have traveled a hot dusty road Out of your Dust Bowl and Westward we rolled And your deserts were hot and your mountains were cold California, Arizona, I harvest your crops Well it's North up to Oregon to gather your hops Dig the beets from your ground, cut the grapes from your vine To set on your table your light sparkling wine I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes I slept on the ground in the light of the moon Every state in the Union us migrants have been We'll work in this fight and we'll fight till we win I slept on the ground in the light of the moon I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes Wherever your crops are, I'll lend you my hand I'll ramble all over your green growing land Green pastures of plenty from dry desert ground From the Grand Coulee Dam where the waters run down Every state in the Union us migrants have been We come with the dust and we go with the wind It's always we rambled, that river and I All along your green valley, I will work till I die This land I'll defend with my life if need be 'Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free

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If you'll gather round me, people

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A story I will tell

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About Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw

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Oklahoma knew him well It was in the town of Shawnee On a Saturday afternoon His wife beside him in a wagon And into town they rode There a deputy sheriff approached him In a manner rather rude Using vulgar words of language An' his wife she overheard Pretty Boy grabbed a log chain And the deputy grabbed his gun And in the fight that followed He laid that deputy down Now he took to the hills and timber To live the life of shame Every crime in Oklahoma Was added to his name He took to the trees and timber On the Canadian river shore And Pretty Boy found a welcome At every farmer's door But a many a starving farmer The same old story told How the outlaw paid their mortgage And saved their little homes Others tell you of a stranger That come to beg a meal And underneath the napkin Left a thousand dollar bill 'Twas in Oklahoma City It was on a Christmas Day There come a whole car load of groceries And a letter that did say: You say that I'm an outlaw You say that I'm a thief Well, here's a Christmas dinner For the families on relief Well, as through this world I've rambled I've seen lots of funny men Some will rob you with a six-gun And some with a fountain pen But as through this world you ramble As through this world you roam You won't never see an outlaw Drive a family from their home

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Well, I'm just a-one of them ramblin' boys

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Ramblin' round and makin' noise

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Sometimes lonely, sometimes blue

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No one knows it better than you Ramblin' round, ramblin' twirl Ramblin' down through the world Ramblin' down, ramblin' twirl Ramblin' down through the world

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There's a great and a bloody fight 'round this whole world tonight

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And the battle, the bombs and shrapnel rain

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Hitler told the world around he would tear our union down

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But our union's gonna break them slavery chains

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Our union's gonna break them slavery chains I walked up on a mountain in the middle of the sky Could see every farm and every town I could see all the people in this whole wide world

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That's the union that'll tear the fascists down, down, down

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That's the union that'll tear the fascists down When I think of the men and the ships going down While the Russians fight on across the Don There's London in ruins and Paris in chains Good people, what are we waiting on? Good people, what are we waiting on? So, I thank the Soviets and the mighty Chinese vets The Allies the whole wide world around To the battling British, thanks, you can have ten million Yanks If it takes 'em to tear the fascists down, down, down If it takes 'em to tear the fascists down But when I think of the ships and the men going down And the Russians fight on across the Don There's London in ruins and Paris in chains Good people, what are we waiting on? Good people, what are we waiting on? So I thank the Soviets and the mighty Chinese vets The Allies the whole wide world around To the battling British, thanks, you can have ten million Yanks

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If it takes 'em to tear the fascists down, down, down

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If it takes 'em to tear the fascists down

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As I went walking, that ribbon of highway

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I saw above me that endless skyway

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I saw below me that golden valley

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This land was made for you and me This land is your land, this land is my land From California to the New York Island From the redwood forest to the Gulf stream waters This land was made for you and me I've roamed and rambled, and I've followed my footsteps To the sunny bright sands of her diamond deserts And all around me a voice came a-singing Singing, "This land was made for you and me" This land is your land, this land is my land From California to the New York Island From the redwood forest to the Gulf stream waters This land was made for you and me It was early one morning, and I was a-strolling With the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling As the fog was lifting, a voice comes chanting This land is your land, this land is my land From California to the New York Island From the redwood forest to the Gulf stream waters This land was made for you and me Nobody living can ever stop me As I go walking my freedom highway Nobody living can make me turn back This land was made for you and me This land is your land, this land is my land From California to the New York Island From the redwood forest to the Gulf stream waters This land was made for you and me

Woody Guthrie : Misc

1913 Massacre

All You Fascists Bound To Lose

Bury Me Beneath The Willow

Danville Girl

Deportees

Dust Bowl Blues

Grand Coulee Dam

Hard Travelin'

Pastures Of Plenty

Pretty Boy Floyd

Ramblin' Down Through The World

Tear The Fascists Down

This Land Is Your Land