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Harry Belafonte - Pastures Of Plenty Lyrics

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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
  • 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
  • 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
  • I'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

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