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A NOTE ABOUT PUBLISHING:

All works by Woody Guthrie are held under U.S. Copyright Law. If you are interested in using a song for publication, recording, performance, or other, please contact the appropriate publisher listed at the bottom of each lyric.

If you have questions, please feel free to contact Anna Canoni at: acanoni(at)woodyguthrie.org


PUBLISHER'S CONTACTS:

TRO-Essex Music Group
Attn: Christina Sayles
266 West 37th Street, 17th Floor
New York, NY 10018-6609
T: 212-594-9795 x24
Website


Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc.
(Administered by BMG Chrysalis)
Attn: Gregg Barron
6100 Wilshire Boulevard, Suite #1600,
Los Angeles, CA 90048
T: (323) 969-0988
E: info.us@bmgchrysalis.com
Website


Sanga Music Group
(Administered by Bicycle Music)
449 South Beverly Drive, Suite 300
Beverly Hills, CA 90212 
T: 310-286-6600
Website


Michael Goldsen Music, Inc.
6124 Selma Avenue
Hollywood, CA 90068


MCA Music Publishing
c/o Universal Music, Inc
2440 Sepulveda Boulevard, #100
Los Angeles, CA 90064
Website


 

 

Circle of Truth
Words and Music by Woody Guthrie

Gang around me you cowpunks, and hear my sad wall
'Bout that battle had on the Triple Six Trail;
I got sick of the blabber of my dirty mouth boss.
From his Triple Six cow camp I fann'd my good hoss.

I rode several days and I camped several nights,
My tailbone got blistered and the toeflies did bite!
I splashed a sand river both shivery and cold,
I swum for an hour, then I pulled on my duds.

As I lay like a lizard to bake in that sun,
A young Indian girl from her corn field she run;
She rolled and she cried till I thought she might die,
So I pulled out my shirt tall and dried both her eyes.

She then took her finger and wrote in the sand:
My father must wed me to some older man!
I drew her my circle of truth on the ground.
Told her: You can ride with me to the place that I'm bound.

That night 'round our firehole she told me again:
He's a rich, mighty landlord and he owns all these lands!
That night 'round our firehole his tracker did come,
And we dug us a low ditch to hide from their guns.

I had just one pistol, all rusty and old,
I fired at their gunsparks that flashed in the dark.
She pulled an old fourshot from under her dress
And she fired with both fingers and mostly by guess.

His tracker thugs run when they seen we had guns
Back to that old moneybag, sayin' they'd blowed us down.
We rigged up my pony and the river did swim,
I felt her warm body while she laughed at him.

We chunked up a fire on this opposite shore
As I held her and warmed her and I kissed her some more.
His gooners will draw pay for shooting us down!
And here I am going to this place that you're bound!

I drew her my circle of truth on the ground,
Baby, this is the spot where I'm sure that I'm bound.
Yes, she drew her cross on my ring that went 'round:
I'm glad that we've come to the spot where we're bound!

 


© Copyright Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc. & TRO-Ludlow Music, Inc.
Available on:

The Songs of Woody Guthrie
Joel Rafael

 

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