We go around all dressed in rags while the rest of the world goes to eat.
And we gotta be satisfied with half enough to eat.
We have to live in lean-to's or else we live in a tent.
Cause when we buy our bread and beans, there's nothing left for rent.
I'd rather not be on the rosary leaf or work on the WPA.
I'd rather work for the farmer if the farmer could raise the pay.
Then the farmer could plant more cotton and he'd have more money for spuds.
Instead of wearing patches, we'd dress up in new duds.
From the east to west, the north and the south, like a swarm of bees we'd bum.
The migratory workers are worse off than the bum.
We go to Mr. Farmer and we ask him what he pays.
He says you gypsy workers can live on a buck a day.
I'd rather not be on the rosary leaf or work on the WPA.*
I'd rather work for the farmer if the farmer could raise the pay.
Then the farmer could plant more cotton and he'd have more money for spuds.
Instead of wearing patches, we'd dress up in new duds.
Now we're not asking for luxuries nor even a feather bed.
But we're bound to raise the dickens while our families are underfed.
Now the winter is on us and the cotton picking is done.
What are we gonna live on while we wait for the spuds to come?
I'd rather not be on the rosary leaf or work on the WPA.
I'd rather work for the farmer if the farmer could raise the pay.
Then the farmer could plant more cotton and he'd have more money for spuds.
Instead of wearing patches, we'd dress up in new duds.
Now if you'll all excuse me, I'll bring my song to an end.
I've got to go and chomp a crack where the howling wind comes in.
But times are gonna better and I guess you'd like to know.I'll tell you all about it.
I've joined the CIO.**
And we gotta be satisfied with half enough to eat.
We have to live in lean-to's or else we live in a tent.
Cause when we buy our bread and beans, there's nothing left for rent.
I'd rather not be on the rosary leaf or work on the WPA.
I'd rather work for the farmer if the farmer could raise the pay.
Then the farmer could plant more cotton and he'd have more money for spuds.
Instead of wearing patches, we'd dress up in new duds.
From the east to west, the north and the south, like a swarm of bees we'd bum.
The migratory workers are worse off than the bum.
We go to Mr. Farmer and we ask him what he pays.
He says you gypsy workers can live on a buck a day.
I'd rather not be on the rosary leaf or work on the WPA.*
I'd rather work for the farmer if the farmer could raise the pay.
Then the farmer could plant more cotton and he'd have more money for spuds.
Instead of wearing patches, we'd dress up in new duds.
Now we're not asking for luxuries nor even a feather bed.
But we're bound to raise the dickens while our families are underfed.
Now the winter is on us and the cotton picking is done.
What are we gonna live on while we wait for the spuds to come?
I'd rather not be on the rosary leaf or work on the WPA.
I'd rather work for the farmer if the farmer could raise the pay.
Then the farmer could plant more cotton and he'd have more money for spuds.
Instead of wearing patches, we'd dress up in new duds.
Now if you'll all excuse me, I'll bring my song to an end.
I've got to go and chomp a crack where the howling wind comes in.
But times are gonna better and I guess you'd like to know.I'll tell you all about it.
I've joined the CIO.**
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* WPA : The Works Progress Administration (WPA; from 1935 to 1939, then known as the Work Projects Administration from 1939 to 1943) was an American New Deal agency that employed millions of jobseekers (mostly men who were not formally educated) to carry out public works projects,[1] including the construction of public buildings and roads. It was set up on May 6, 1935, by presidential order, as a key part of the Second New Deal.
[ Wikipedia ]
** CIO : The Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO) was a federation of unions that organized workers in industrial unions in the United States and Canada from 1935 to 1955.
[ Wikipedia ]