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I was a farmer till the top soil blew away From Texas all the way to L.A. But when the land gives up and there's no more pay The big city is your last stop I take my orders from the union hall I work on wet iron seven fifty feet tall And if I may slip its the coroner you'll call I'll be half way to hell if I fall Through all my years of desperate wandering It's hard to imagine I'd amount to anything But now my ship has finally come in And I'm part of this brotherhood now This is the start of what could be the end This great depression the country's on the mend A fair days wage for a fair days work That's all I got coming to me From Letras Mania