I AIN'T GOT NO HOME IN THIS
WORLD ANYMORE 
Woody Guthrie 

I ain't got no home, I'm just a-ramblin' round 
I'm just a wandrin' worker, I roam from town to town. 
The police make it hard wherever I may go 
And I ain't got no home in this world anymore. 

My brothers and my sisters are stranded on this road 
A hot and dusty road that a million feet done trod; 
Rich man took my home and drove me from my door 
And I ain't got no home in this world anymore. 

Was a-farmin' on the share, and always I was poor 
My crops I laid into the banker's store; 
My wife took down and died upon the cabin floor 
And I ain't got no home in this world anymore. 

Now as I look round, it's mighty plain to see 
The world is such a great and a funny place to be; 
The gamblin' man is rich and the workin' man is poor 
And I ain't got no home in this world anymore. 



TALKING DUST BOWL BLUES 
Woody Guthrie 

Back in nineteen twenty seven 
I had a little farm and I called it heaven 
Prices up and the rain come down 
I hauled my crops all into town 
Got the money...bought clothes and groceries... 
Fed the kids..and raised a big family 

But the rain quit and the wind got high 
Black old dust storm filled the sky 
I traded my farm for a Ford machine 
Poured it full of this gas-i-line 
And started...rocking and a-rolling 
Deserts and mountains...to California 

Way up yonder on a mountain road 
Hot motor and a heavy load 
Going purty fast, wasn't even stopping 
Bouncing up and down like popcorn a-popping 
Had a breakdown..kind of a nervous bustdown 
Mechanic feller there charged me five bucks 
And said it was En-gine trouble 

Way up yonder on a mountain curve 
Way up yonder in a piney wood 
I gave that rolling Ford a shove 
Gonna coast just fars as I could 
Commence a rolling..picking up speed 
Come a hairpin turn..and I didn't make it 

Man alive, I'm a telling you 
The fiddles and guitars really flew 
That Ford took off like a flying squirrel 
Flew halfway around the world 
Scattered wives and children 
All over the side of that mountain 

Got to California so dad-gum broke 
So dad-gum hungry I thought I'd choke 
I bummed up a spud or two 
Wife fixed up some tater stew 
We poured the kids full of it 
Looked like a tribe of thy-mometers 
arunning around 

Lord, man, I swear to you 
That was surely mighty thin stew 
So damn thin I really mean 
You could read a magizine 
Right through it..look at the pictures too 
Purty whiskey bottles..naked women 

Always have thought, always figured 
If that damn stew had been a little thinner 
Some of these here politicians 
Could of seen through it 

DO RE MI 
Woody Guthrie 

Lots of folks back East they say, leaving home every day 
Beating the hot old dusty way to the California line 
Cross the desert sands they roll, getting out of the old dust bowl 
Think they're going to a sugar bowl, but here's what they find 
Now police at the port of entry say, 
"you're number fourteen thousand for today 

Oh, if you ain't got the do re mi, folks, you ain't got the do re mi 
Why you better get back to beautiful Texas, Oklahoma, Georgia,
Kansas, Tennessee 
California is a garden of Eden, a paradise to live in or see 
But believe it or not, you won't find it so hot 
If you ain't got the do re mi 

You want to buy a house or a farm, that can't do nobody harm 
Or take your vacation by the mountain or sea 
Don't swap your old cow for a car, you'd better stay right where
you are 
Better take this little tip from me: 
Cause I look through the want ads every day 
And the headlines in the papers always say 

HIGHWAY 66 BLUES 
Woody Guthrie 

There is a Highway from coast to the coast, 
New York to Los Angeles, 
I'm a goin' down that road with troubles on my mind 
I got them 66 Highway Blues. 

Every old town that I ramble' round, 
Down that Lonesome Road, 
The police in yo' town they shove me around, 
I got them 66 Highway Blues. 

Makes me no difference wherever I ramble 
Lord, wherever I go, 
I don't wanna be pushed around by th' police in yo' town, 
I got them 66 Highway Blues. 

Been on this road for a mighty long time, 
Ten million men like me, 
You drive us from yo' town, we ramble around, 
And got them 66 Highway Blues. 

Sometimes I think I'll blow down a cop, 
Lord, you treat me so mean, 
I done lost my gal, I aint got a dime, 
I got them 66 Highway Blues. 

Sometimes I think I'll get me a gun, 
Thirty eight or big forty fo', 
But a number for a name and a big 99, 
Is worse than 66 Highway Blues. 

I'm gonna start me a hungry man's union, 
Ainta gonna charge no dues, 
Gonna march down that road to the Wall Street Walls 
A singin' those 66 Highway blues. 

Dust Bowl Refugee
Woody Guthrie

I'm a dust bowl refugee,
Just a dust bowl refugee,
From that dust bowl to the peach bowl,
Now that peach fuzz is a-killin' me.

'Cross the mountains to the sea,
Come the wife and kids and me.
It's a hot old dusty highway
For a dust bowl refugee.

Hard, it's always been that way
, Here today and on our way
Down that mountain, 'cross the desert,
Just a dust bowl refugee.

We are ramblers, so they say,
We are only here today,
Then we travel with the seasons,
We're the dust bowl refugees.
From the south land and the drought land,
Come the wife and kids and me,
And this old world is a hard world
For a dust bowl refugee.

Yes, we ramble and we roam
And the highway that's our home,
It's a never-ending highway
For a dust bowl refugee.

Yes, we wander and we work
In your crops and in your fruit,
Like the whirlwinds on the desert
That's the dust bowl refugees.

I'm a dust bowl refugee,
I'm a dust bowl refugee,
And I wonder will I always
Be a dust bowl refugee?