Back in 1927 I had a little farm, and I called that heaven
And the price was up and the rain come down
Abd I hauled my crops all in to town I got money
Bought clothes and groceries, fed the kids and raised a family
Rain quit and the wind got high, and black old dust storm filled the sky
And I swapped my farm for a Ford machine
And I poured it full of gasoline I started rockin' and rollin'
Over the mountains out towards the old peach bowl
Way up yonder on the mountain road, I had a hot motor and a heavy load
I was going pretty fast, I wasn't even stoppin'
A-bouncing up and down like pop-coren popping I had a breakdown
A mechanic fellow said it was engine trouble
Way up yonder on a mountain curve, it was way up yonder in the Piney woods
I gave that rolling Ford a shove
And I was going to coast as far as I could commenced coasting
Picking up speed there was a hair-pin turn, and I didn't make it
Man alive I'm telling you, the fiddles and the guitars really flew
That Ford took off like a fliying squirrel
And it flew half way around the world
Scattered wife and children all over the sides of that mountain
We got out to the west coast broke, so doggone hungry I though I'd croak
And I bummed up a spud or two
My wife fixed up a tater stew filled three of the kids full of it
Mighty thin stew though, you could read a magazine right through it
Always have figured that if that stew had been just a wee bit thinner
Some of these politicians could have seen through it