My drifting memory goes back to the spring of '43
When I was just a child in Mama's arms
My Daddy plowed the ground and prayed someday he could leave
This run-down mortgaged Oklahoma farm
Then one night I heard my daddy saying to my mama
That he'd finally saved enough to go
California was his dream, a paradise for he had seen
Pictures in magazines that told him so
California cottonfields
Where labor camps are filled with weary men with broken dreams
California cottonfields
As close to wealth as Daddy ever came
Almost everything we had was sold or left behind
From my Daddy's plow to the fruit that Mama canned
Some folks came to say farewell or see what all we had to sell
Some just came to shake my Daddy's hand
That Model A was loaded down and California bound
A change of luck was just four days away
But the only change that I remember seeing for my Daddy
Was when his dark hair turned to silver grey
California cottonfields
Where labor camps are filled with weary men with broken dreams
California cottonfields
As close to wealth as Daddy ever came
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