Califonia Or Bust
From an old wooden shack
Beside a long dusty road
In the county ten miles from town
Their bare feet did stroll
In the thirties eating dust
Following the slogan California or bust
As jobs around here were nil, if found
Many an old automobile
With those slick and worn wheels
Heading west in search of that gold
As they bypassed the New Deal
Looking for a job and a new start
With blistered feet and bleeding hearts
Near starvation and shivering from the cold
No jobs only heartaches
And no vagrants wanted here
Lord, they’d heard all these words before
As now hunger was their fear
From the dustbowl of the thirties
To the California coast
Finding only hatred and closings of the door
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