my drifiting 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 might leave this rundown mortgaged oklahoma farm

and then one night i heard my daddy saying to my mama

that he'd finall saved enough to go

californa was his dream of paradise

fore he had seen pictures in magazines

that told him so

californa cottonfields

where labor camps are filled with worried men with broken dreams

californa cottonfields

as close to welath as daddy ever came

well almost everything we had was sold or left behind

from my daddy's plow to the fruit that mama canned

and some folks came to say farewell and see what all we had to sell

and some just came to shake my daddy's hand

well the Model A was loaded down and californa bound

and a change of luck was just four days away

but the only change that i remember seeing for my daddy

was when his dark hair turned to silver gray

(repeat chours 2x)