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DUST BOWL SWING
©Gary Bowman Raging dust storms, rollin’ in, Suffocating, dusty wind Across the Southern Plains Dirt and dust everywhere, In our pockets, in our hair Here in “No-Man’s Land” Dust in our Panhandle Shack, Through the cracks, Down our backs, Everything a shade of black Blizzards turn the day to night, Blotting out the sun and sky Restless winds and drifting sands Though deadly dusters fill the sky, Rising up a mile high You’ve got me, And I’ve got you Storms may come, Storms may go, Winds may blow, This I know Together, We’ll get through Once we farmed the land with pride, Oh, beautiful for spacious skies, And amber waves of grain Ain’t no doubt, In our greed, We over-plowed, Beyond our need I guess, we’re all to blame Dust in our Panhandle Shack, Through the cracks, Down our backs, Everything a shade of black Dust rolls in, the dust rolls out, In this lonely world of drought Now, we pray for rain This drought has lasted eight long years, We stayed put, we persevered Through blood, sweat, tears and pain Lost our crops, Lost our wealth, Lost our livestock, Lost our health Still, we can’t complain Dust in our Panhandle Shack, Through the cracks, Down our backs, Everything a shade of black We survived the “Dirty Thirties,” Dear, We beat the odds and we’re still here Now, if only it would rain Though rolling dusters fill the sky, Gotta laugh to keep from cryin’, You’ve got me, And I’ve got you Storms may come, Storms may go, Ever-constant winds may blow Together, We’ll get through |
