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