Back in nineteen twenty-seven
I had a little farm and I called that heaven
When the price's up and the rain come down
And I hauled the crops all into town
I got the money, bought clothes and groceries
Fed the kids and raised a family
The rain, it quit and the wind got high
And the black, old dust storm filled the sky
And I swapped my farm for a Ford machine
And I poured it full of this gas-i-line
And then started rockin' and rollin'
Over the mountains and deserts and stuff like that to California
Way up yonder, on a mountain road
A hot motor and a heavy load
I was goin' purty fast, I wasn't even stoppin'
A-bouncin' up and down, like popcorn poppin'
Had a breakdown, some kind of a nervous bustdown of some kind
There was a feller there, mechanic feller, said it was engine trouble
Way up yonder, on a mountain curve
I was way up yonder, in a piney wood
I gave that rollin' Ford a shove
And I was gonna coast as far as I could
Commence rollin', pickin' up speed
It was a hairpin turn an' I didn't make it
Man alive, I'm a-tellin' you
The fiddles and the guitars really flew
That Ford took off like a flyin' squirrel
And it flew halfway around the world
Scattered wives and childrens all over the side of that mountain
We got out to the West Coast broke
So dad-gum hungry I thought I'd croke
And I bummed up a spud or two
And my wife fixed up a tater stew
And we fed kids [?] of it
The [?] bunch of five [?] runnin' around
That stew is a-thin
You could read a magazine right through it
Always have thought and always had figured
That if it'd been just little bit thinner
Some of these here politicians could've seen through it

INVIA LE CORREZIONI