We hang our hope with the clothes on the line
The corn leaves reach to the ground
The horses beat the first of the dust
With their hooves in the grooves from the wagon wheels round
The wind stirs the fields, the earth shakes loose
The horizon's a blurry line
The dust seeps in through the cracks in the windows
To where the children sit restless inside
I'm sorry we're losin' the Oklahoma Lottery
We're prayin' on our knees
There's no work to be done until the rain starts to fall
So you pack up your old jalopy
Mama said the preacher man is way out of line
Askin' for the rain to fall
She said "If God had meant to, he wouldn't forget
"And so it ain't our business at all"
But Papa said "If God cared a little bit about us
"Then he wouldn't have left us to die"
He ties a 'kerchief 'round his face puts his goggles on his eyes
Kicks the door and stalks outside
I'm sorry we're losin' the Oklahoma Lottery
We're prayin' on our knees
There's no work to be done until the rain starts to fall
So you pack up your old jalopy
You got some friends who say they're workin' out in California
So you pack up everything you can hold
With some vague hope
But you know you left your soul with the corn back in Oklahoma
I'm sorry we're losin' the Oklahoma Lottery
We're prayin' on our knees
There's no work to be done until the rain starts to fall
So you pack up your old jalopy
And drive
And drive