Pastures of Plenty
words and music by Woody Guthrie

as performed by Bob Dylan, 1961 era.


Capo 2nd fret

G harmonica, played something like this:

 Am  C                                      C/B  Am
 45 (34)====== 34 (34)====== 34 (34)======= (23) 23


       C                              C/B  Am
It's a mighty rough row my poor hands have hoed.
   C                                C/B Am
My poor feet have traveled a hot dusty road.
C                             C/B Am
Out of your dustbowl westward we rolled.
         C                                   C/B  Am
And your deserts were hot and your mountains were cold. 

California, Arizona, make all your crops. 
Then it's north up to Oregon to gather your hops. 
Dig beets from your ground, cut your grapes from your vine 
To set on your table your light sparkling wine. 

I'll sleep on the ground in the light of your moon. 
I'll work in your orchards of peaches and prunes. 
Wherever your crops are I'll lend you my hand 
I'll ramble all over your green growing land. 

Green pastures of plenty from dry desert ground, 
from the Grand Coulee Dam where your waters run down. 
Every state in this union us migrants has been. 
We'll work in your fight and we'll fight till we win. 

Well it's always we ramble, that river and I, 
All along your valleys till the day that I die. 
On the egde of your cities you'll see us and then 
we come with the dust and are gone with the wind. 

Green pastures of plenty from a dry desert ground,
From the Grand Coulee Dam where your waters run down. 
This land I'll defend with my life if it be, 
'cause my pastures of plenty must always be free.