Woody Guthrie

Fetch my guitar son, Then sit by my knee I'll teach you these chords son,

If you'll sing with me.

We'll sing about rivers

That ramble along Of trains and of minstrels

A travelin' song.

When my hair is gray son,

And you're in your prime, These songs we are singing

Will mix well with time.

Remember your pa son,

As a ramblin' song That sang through a country

Where hope sang along.

And when children's voices

Sing out loud and clear This land, yours and mine son,

Will listen and hear.

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