It's round the world I've traveled; it's round the world I've roamed; but I've yet to see an outlaw drive a family from its home
I ain't a communist necessarily, but I been in the red all my life.
The world is filled with people who are no longer needed. And who try to make slaves of all of us. And they have their music and we have ours. Theirs, the wasted songs of a superstitious nightmare. And without their music and ideological miscarriages to compare our songs of freedom to, we'd not have any opposite to compare music with - - and like the drifting wind, hitting against no obstacle, we'd never know its speed, its power.
I better quit my talking 'cause I told you all I know But please remember, pardner, wherever you may go The people are building a peaceful world, and when the job is done, That'll be the biggest thing that man has ever done.
You can't write a good song about a whorehouse unless you've been in one.
The words are the important thing. Don't worry about tunes. Take a tune, sing high when they sing low, sing fast when they sing slow, and you've got a new tune.
This land is made for you and me.
All you can write is what you see.
This machine kills fascists.
Now as through this world I ramble, I see lots of funny men, Some rob you with a six gun, And some with a fountain pen.
Left wing. Right wing. Chicken wing.
Left wing, chicken wing, it don't make no difference to me.
Now as I look around, it's mighty plain to see, This world is such a great and a funny place to be. Oh, the gamblin' man is rich, an' the workin' man is poor, And I ain't got no home in this world anymore.
If you walk across my camera I will flash the world your story.
Uncle Sam took up the challenge in the year of '33 For the farmer and the factory and all of you and me. He said, "Roll along Columbia. You can ramble to the sea, But river while you're ramblin' you can do some work for me."
If you play more than two chords, you're showing off.
I have decided long ago that my songs and ballads would not get the hugs and kisses of the capitalistic experts.
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.
One bright sunny morning in the shadow of the steeple, by the Relief Office, I saw my people - As they stood hungry, I stood there wondering if God blessed America for me.
If you want to learn something, just steal it.
My eyes has been my camera taking pictures of the world and my songs has been my messages that I tried to scatter across the back sides and along the steps of the fire escapes and on the window sills and through the dark halls.
You oil field workers, come and listen to me I'm goin' to tell you a story about old John D. That company union made a fool out of me. That company union don't charge no dues It leaves you a-singing them Rockefeller blues. That company union made a fool out of me. Takes that good ole C.I.O., boys To keep that oil a-rollin', rollin' over the sea. Takes that good ole C.I.O., boys To keep that oil a-rollin' over the sea.
I like to write about wherever I happen to be.
Okemah was one of the singingest, square dancingest, drinkingest, yellingest, preachingest, walkingest, talkingest, laughingest, cryingest, shootingest, fist fightingest, bleedingest, gamblingest, gun, club and razor carryingest of our ranch towns and farm towns, because it blossomed out into one of our first Oil Boom Towns.
Nobody living can ever stop me. As I go walking my freedom highway. Nobody living can make me turn back. This land was made for you and me.
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