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I'm a dust bowl refugee, |
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Just a dust bowl refugee, |
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From that dust bowl to the peach bowl, |
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Now that peach fuzz is a-killin' me. ' |
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Cross the mountains to the sea, |
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Come the wife and kids and me. |
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It's a hot old dusty highway |
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For a dust bowl refugee. |
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Hard, it's always been that way, |
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Here today and on our way |
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Down that mountain, 'cross the desert, |
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Just a dust bowl refugee. |
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We are ramblers, so they say, |
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We are only here today, |
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Then we travel with the seasons, |
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We're the dust bowl refugees. |
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From the south land and the drought land, |
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Come the wife and kids and me, |
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And this old world is a hard world |
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For a dust bowl refugee. |
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Yes, we ramble and we roam |
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And the highway that's our home, |
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It's a never-ending highway |
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For a dust bowl refugee. |
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Yes, we wander and we work |
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In your crops and in your fruit, |
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Like the whirlwinds on the desert |
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That's the dust bowl refugees. |
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I'm a dust bowl refugee, |
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I'm a dust bowl refugee, |
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And I wonder will |
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I always Be a dust bowl refugee? |
