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With a backpack full of yesterdays |
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On a freeway full of smoke and haze |
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Where the power lines and fault lines double cross |
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I left our yellow porch light on |
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No one will notice no one's home |
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And no one else will notice what was lost |
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I lost my home when the deal went bust |
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To the so-called security and trust |
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I planned my life the way they said I should |
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I sent my wife and kids ahead |
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I'm right behind you, so I said |
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I'll be there when I get there if that's good |
|
Chorus |
|
Now I'm leaving California for the dust bowl |
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They took it all, there's nowhere else to go |
|
The pastures of plenty are burning by the sea |
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And I'm just a homeland refugee |
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There's a plastic sack by a barbwire fence |
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A burned out beer truck full of dents |
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A dried up stock pond by an old canal |
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Between the towns the desert sands |
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Filling up with empty cans |
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Container trains, casinos and canals |
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Chorus |
|
My Grandpa used to tell about |
|
The way the bankers drove them out |
|
In the wind and the dust in the crash of '29 |
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They crossed the desert headed west |
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They swore that it was for the best |
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They reassured the ones they left behind |
|
There's some refugees from Mexico |
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Behind an abandoned Texaco |
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We nod and smile, it's clear we're all the same |
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For everything this world is worth |
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We're all just migrants on this earth |
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Returning to the dust from where we came |
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Chorus |
