There are more verses to Guthrie's Pastures of Plenty:

Pastures of Plenty
Woody Guthrie

It's a mighty hard row that my poor hands have hoed
My poor feet have traveled a hot dusty road
Out of your Dust Bowl and westward we rolled
Your deserts were hot and your mountains were cold

I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes
I slept on the ground in the light of the moon
On the edge of the city you'll see us and then
We come with the dust and we go with the wind

California, Arizona, I harvest your crops
Then up north to Oregon to gather your hops
Dig the beets from the ground
Cut the grapes from the vine
To set on your table the light sparkling wine

Green pastures of plenty from dry desert ground
From the Grand Coulee Dam where the waters run down
Every state in the Union we migrants have been
We come with the dust and we're gone with the wind

It's always we've rambled, that river and I
All along your green valley I will work till I die
My land I'll defend with my life if it be
Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free