Woody Guthrie, Working Man

A-who, a-who, a-who, a who-oh-oh
Would they jump in on a train
And a box car in the rain
And the one bakes sky
Wipes the dust out of his eyes
He's out here shaking truth
His guitar's gotten loose
A dust full of stray, on a ribbon of highway

He's an oky locomotive
Rider, singing, freedom fighter
Snatching lyric pictures of this land
He's a poet, picker, rider, painter, mystic public entertainer
Woody Guthrie, working man

Under California skies, are broken
Are just getting by
In the orchard, round the radio
There's a voice there, it's giving them hope

He's an oky locomotive
Rider, singing, freedom fighter
Snatching lyric pictures of this land
He's a poet, picker, rider, painter, mystic public entertainer
Woody Guthrie, working man

Even wrote song on a island
That made us smile
Songs for workers and the
For soldiers of war and for old uncle sam

He's an oky locomotive
Rider, singing, freedom fighter
Snatching lyric pictures of this land
He's a poet, picker, rider, painter, mystic public entertainer
Woody Guthrie, working man

He was born in the old
A dirt cowboy with a child like soul
From New York to the Rio Grande
He kept on singing all the way to California
This land is your land,

He's an oky locomotive
Rider, singing, freedom fighter
Snatching lyric pictures of this land
He's a poet, picker, rider, painter, mystic public entertainer
Woody Guthrie, working man X 2