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I been a grubbin' on a little farm on the flat and windy plains |
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I been a list'nin to the hungry cattle bawl. |
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I'm gonna pack my wife and kids, |
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I'm gonna hit that western road. |
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I'm gonna hit that Oregon Trail this comin' fall. |
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Chrous |
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Now, my true love she gets ailin' |
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When this dry old dust gets sailin' |
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And she wishes for the days beyond recall |
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If we work hard there's a future |
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In that north Pacific land |
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I'm gonna hit that Oregon trail this comin' fall. |
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Chorus |
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Well my land is dry and cracklin' |
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and my chickens they're a cacklin' |
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'Cause this dirt and dust is getting' in their craw |
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They been layin' flint rock eggs |
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I got to bust 'em with a sledge |
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I got to hit that Oregon trail this comin' fall. |
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Chorus |
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Yes, my hogs and pigs are squealin' |
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They're a rockin' and a reelin' |
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'Cause there ain't no mud to waller in the draw |
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I'm gonna grab them by their tails |
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Take them down that western trail |
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I'm gonna hit that Oregon trail this comin' fall. |
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Chorus |
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Well, my good old horse in bony |
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And he's tired and lonsesome too |
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You can count his ribs three quarters of a mile |
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Throw my bedroll on his back |
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Both the bay horse and the black |
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I'm gonna hit that Oregon trail this comin' fall. |
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Chorus |
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I'm gonna hit that Oregon Trail this comin' fall, |
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I'm gonna hit that Oregon Trail this coming fall, |
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Where that good rain falls a plenty |
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Where the crops and orchards grow |
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I'm gonna hit that Oregon Trail this coming fall. |
