Well, it's always we ramble, this river and I. All along your green valleys, I work till I die. My land I'll defend with my life need it be. 'Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free.
Well gather round children, a story i will tell. About pretty boy floyd the outlaw, oklahoma knew him well. . Was in the town of shawnee on a saturday afternoon.
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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. Blue deserts so hot and your mountains so cold.
Well gather round children, a story I will tell. About pretty boy Floyd the outlaw, Oklahoma knew him well. Was in the town of Shawnee on a Saturday afternoon.
Hey now, where are you going. Where are you going to, my friend. Said I'm going out to find. The pastures of plenty. I believe they're out there somewhere.
If you'll gather 'round me, children,. A story I will tell. 'Bout Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw,. Oklahoma knew him well.. . It was in the town of Shawnee,.
Put your finger in the air, in the air.. Put your finger in the air, in the air.. Put your finger in the air, and hold it right up there.. Put your finger in the air, in the air..
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 mountain was cold.
Way out in Reno, Nevada. Where romances blooms and fades. There was Philadelphia lawyer. Makin' love with a Hollywood maid. . "Come, love, and we'll go ramblin'.
Way out in Reno Nevada where the romances bloom and they fade. Was a great Philadelphia lawyer was in love with a Hollywood maid. Come love and we will wander down where the lights are so bright.
Way out in Reno Nevada. Where romance blooms and fades. A great Philadelphia Lawyer. Was in love with a Hollywood maid.. Come, Love, and we will wander.
It's a mighty hard row that my poor hands have hoed. My poor feet have traveled that hot dusty road. Out of the dust bowl and westward we rolled. Your desert was hot and your mountains were cold.
Woody Guthrie. . It's a mighty hard road that my poor hands have hoed. My poor feet have traveled a hot, dusty road.. Out of your dust bowls and westward we rode. Your deserts were hot and your mountains were cold..
Way out in Reno Nevada. Where romance blooms and fades. A great Philadelphia lawyer. Was in love with a Hollywood maid. . "Come love and we will wander out.