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

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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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