My driftin' memory goes back to the spring of '43

When I was just a child in momma's arms

My daddy plowed the ground and promised someday we would leave

This run-down mortgaged Oklahoma farm

Then one night I heard my daddy sayin' to my momma

That he'd finally saved enough to go

California was his dream, a paradise, for he had seen

Pictures in magazines that told him so

California cottonfields,

Where labor camps were filled with weary men with broken dreams.

California cottonfields,

As close to wealth as daddy ever came.

Nearly everything we had was sold or left behind

From my daddy's plow to the soup that momma canned

Some folks came to say farewell or see what all we had to sell

Some just came to shake my daddy's hand

That model A was loaded down and California bound

A change of luck was just 4 days away

But the only change that I remember seeing in my daddy

Was when his dark hair turned to silver grey

California cottonfields,

Where labor camps were filled with weary men with broken dreams.

California cottonfields,

As close to wealth as daddy ever came.