Tulare Dust - Merle Haggard, The Strangers

Tulare dust in a farm boy’s nose

Wondering where the freight train goes

Standin' in the field by the railroad track

Cursin' this strap on my cotton sack

I can see mom and dad with shoulders low

Both of 'em pickin' on a double row

They do it for a livin' because they must

That’s life like it is in the Tulare dust

The California sun was something new

That when we arrived in '42

And I can still remember how my daddy cussed

The tumbleweeds here in the Tulare dust

The wally fever was a comin' fate

To the farmworkers here in the Golden State

And I miss Oklahoma but I’ll stay

If I must and help make a livin' in the Tulare dust

The Tulare dust in a farm boy’s nose

Wondering where the freight train goes

Standin' in the field by the railroad track

Cursin' this strap on my cotton sack