Harvest Gypsies

In October we will come
 A hundred and fifty thousand strong
 When the picking's over we'll be gone
 They call us the harvest gypsies
 We only came because we must
 We were driven here by dust
 And they won't even look at us
 We're only harvest gypsies
 There's apricots in Santa Clare
 In Kern County, they have apples there
 And the grapes, they're growing everywhere
 For the harvest gypsies
 In a walnut grove I met a man
 Who lost a child before San Fran
 We're strangers, they don't understand
 We are the harvest gypsies
 The hardest that it's ever been
 I sold my blankets for gasoline
 It's only hunger I have seen
 Now I'm a harvest gypsy
 The gondolas and railway lines
 Filled with men when it is time
 Drawn by the orange and the lime
 All the harvest gypsies
 They hate it when their taxes rise
 And the squatter camps that they despise
 Without us they would rot and die
 Without the harvest gypsies
 And the Holbrooks we were farming men
 And I dream one day I will again
 To miss the soil's a curious pain
 When you're a harvest gypsy