My driftin' memory goes back to the spring of '43
When I was just a child in momma's arms
My daddy plowed the ground and promised someday we would leave
This run-down mortgaged Oklahoma farm
Then one night I heard my daddy sayin' to my momma
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 cotton fields
Where labor camps were filled with weary men with broken dreams
California cotton fields
As close to wealth as daddy ever came
Nearly everything we had was sold or left behind
From my daddy's plow to the soup that momma 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 in my daddy
Was when his dark hair turned to silver grey
California cotton fields
Where labor camps were filled with weary men with broken dreams
California cotton fields
As close to wealth as daddy ever came
