Words by Woody Guthrie,
Music by Del McCoury
You can wash my pair of dirty overhalls
I’ll ride that train you call the Cannon Ball
From Baltimore to the Frisco Bay.
I worked six months in a lumber town this fall
All I got left is these dirty overhalls,
Aint got a dime, aint that a shame?
I worked 6 weeks a dynamitin’ coal,
All I got left’s these dirty overhalls;
A dirty shame. Now whose to blame?
Good gal, listen, please dont turn away,
I’ll have a car and suit o’ clothes someday!
Instead of dirty old overhalls.
Honey gal, sweetheart, I do the best I can,
I’m just a poor boy, a hard working man,
My money’s gone – when I get done.
If you leave me, I’ll be so sad and blue!
What is there for a working man to do?
These overhalls! These overhalls!
I seen a rich man driving in his car.
He had a woman for every cylinder -
A good warm bed. A bottle of gin.
I work like a dog. I’m broke all the time.
Couldn’t buy a woman a two bit bottle of wine,
These overhalls they smell too bad.
Rich man took my woman away from me
He’ll be sorry, sorry wait and see!
When I get out of these overhalls.
The cops ought to put that money man in jail,
He stole my money and took away my gal,
Now whose a gonna wash - my overhalls?
© Copyright 1971 (Renewed), 2015 Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc./ TRO-Ludlow Music, Inc. & McCoury Music (BMI)