Tulare dust in a farm boy's nose Wondering where the freight train goes Standin' in the field by the railroad track Cursin' this strap on my cotton sack I can see mom and dad with shoulders low Both of 'em pickin' on a double row They do it for a livin' because they must That's life like it is in the Tulare dust The California sun was something new That when we arrived in '42 And I can still remember how my daddy cussed The tumbleweeds here in the Tulare dust The wally fever was a comin' fate To the farmworkers here in the Golden State And I miss Oklahoma but I'll stay If I must and help make a livin' in the Tulare dust The Tulare dust in a farm boy's nose Wondering where the freight train goes Standin' in the field by the railroad track Cursin' this strap on my cotton sack