Times are getting hard, boys
 Money's getting scarce
 If things don't get no better, boys
 Gonna leave this place
 
 Take my true love by the hand
 Lead her thru the town
 Saying good-bye to everyone
 Good-bye to everyone
 
 Take my bible from the bed
 Shotgun from the wall
 Take old Sal and hitch her up
 The wagon for to haul
 
 Pile the chairs and beds up high
 Let nothing drag the ground
 Sal can pull and we can push
 We're bound to leave this town
 
 Made a crop a year ago
 It withered to the ground
 Tried to get some credit
 But the banker turned me down
 
 But I'm goin' to Californ-i-ay
 Where everything is green
 Goin' to have the best ole farm
 That you have ever seen