Pastures Of Plenty Lyrics - Harry Belafonte

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 

Blue deserts so hot and your mountains so cold 

I wandered all over this green growing land 

Where ever your crops are I lend you my hands 

At the edge of your cities, you? ll see me and then 

I come with the dust and I? m gone with the wind 

California, Arizona, I worked on your crops 

North up to Oregon to gather your hops 

I got beets from your ground 

I cut grapes from your vines 

To sat on our table? s that light that sparkling wine 

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Green Pastures Of Plenty from dry desert ground 

From the grand Coulee Dam where the water runs down 

Every state of this Union us migrants have been 

Oh we come with the dust and we? re gone, gone, gone with the wind 

It? s always we rambled that river and I 

All along your green Valley? s I? d work till I die 

I traveled this road until death lets me be 

? Cause Pastures Of Plenty must always be free 

Photos 

It? s a mighty hard row that my poor hands have hoed 

My poor feet have traveled a hot dusty road 

Edge of your cities you see me and then 

I come with the dust and I? m gone, gone, gone with the wind