My driftin' memory goes back to the spring of '43,
When I was just a child in Mama's arms.
My Daddy plowed the ground and prayed someday we could leave,
This run-down, mortgaged Oklahoma farm.
Then one night I heard my Daddy sayin' to my Mama,
That he'd finally saved enough to go.
California was his dream, a paradise, for he had seen,
Pictures in magazines that told him so.
California cotton fields, Where labor camps were filled with weary men with broken dreams.
California cotton fields,
As close to wealth as daddy ever came.
Almost everything we had was sold or left behind,
From my Daddy's plow to the fruit that Mama canned.
Some folks came to say farewell or see what all we had to sell;
Some just came to shake my daddy's hand.
Hey, the Model A was loaded down and California bound;
And a change of look was just 4 days away.
But the only change that I remember seeing for my Daddy,
Was when his dark hair turned to silver grey.
California cotton fields,
Where labor camps were filled with weary men with broken dreams.
California cotton fields,
As close to wealth as Daddy ever came.
[Thanks to Aaron Rider for corrections]
When I was just a child in Mama's arms.
My Daddy plowed the ground and prayed someday we could leave,
This run-down, mortgaged Oklahoma farm.
Then one night I heard my Daddy sayin' to my Mama,
That he'd finally saved enough to go.
California was his dream, a paradise, for he had seen,
Pictures in magazines that told him so.
California cotton fields, Where labor camps were filled with weary men with broken dreams.
California cotton fields,
As close to wealth as daddy ever came.
Almost everything we had was sold or left behind,
From my Daddy's plow to the fruit that Mama canned.
Some folks came to say farewell or see what all we had to sell;
Some just came to shake my daddy's hand.
Hey, the Model A was loaded down and California bound;
And a change of look was just 4 days away.
But the only change that I remember seeing for my Daddy,
Was when his dark hair turned to silver grey.
California cotton fields,
Where labor camps were filled with weary men with broken dreams.
California cotton fields,
As close to wealth as Daddy ever came.
[Thanks to Aaron Rider for corrections]