Times are getting hard, boys
Money's getting scarce
If things don't get no better, boys
Gonna leave this place

Take my true love by the hand
Lead her thru the town
Saying good-bye to everyone
Good-bye to everyone

Take my bible from the bed
Shotgun from the wall
Take old Sal and hitch her up
The wagon for to haul

Pile the chairs and beds up high
Let nothing drag the ground
Sal can pull and we can push
We're bound to leave this town

Made a crop a year ago
It withered to the ground
Tried to get some credit
But the banker turned me down

But I'm goin' to Californ-i-ay
Where everything is green
Goin' to have the best ole farm
That you have ever seen