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 through 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