Woody Guthrie: Talking Columbia
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Well, down along the river just a-sittin' on a rock
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I'm a-lookin' at the boats in the Bonneville lock.
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Gate swings open, the boat sails in,
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Toot that whistle, she's gone again.
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Gasoline goin' up. Wheat comin' down.
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Well, I filled up my hat brim, drunk a little taste,
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Thought about a river just a-goin' to waste;
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Thought about the dust, an' thought about the sand,
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Thought about the people, an' thought about the land.
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Folks runnin' round all over creation,
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Lookin' for some kind of little place.
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Well, I pulled out my pencil, scribbled this song,
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Figured all them salmon just couldn't be wrong;
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Them salmon fish is mighty shrewd,
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They got senators and politicians, too.
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Just about like the president. They run every four years.
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You just watch this river, though, pretty soon
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Everybody's gonna be changin' their tune;
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The big Grand Coulee and the Bonneville dams
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Run a thousand factories for Uncle Sam.
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And everybody else in the world. Turnin' out
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Everything from fertilizers to sewing machines,
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And atomic bedrooms and plastic --
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Everything's gonna be plastic.
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Uncle Sam need houses and stuff to eat,
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Uncle Sam needs wool, and Uncle Sam needs wheat,
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Uncle Sam needs water and power dams,
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Uncle Sam needs people, and the people need land.
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'Course I don't like dictators none myself,
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but then I think the whole country had ought to be run by
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e-lec-trici-ty.
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Talking Columbia
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Woody Guthrie |