Intro: D G/B   Cadd9  G/B    D (2x)



D         G/B     Cadd9                        G/B      D 
In October we will come, a hundred and fifty thousand strong, 
            D      G/B   Cadd9                                 G/B     D 
When the picking's over, we'll be gone, they call us the har - vest gypsies! 


     D             G/B    Cadd9                G/B      D 
We only come be - cause we must, we are driven here by dust, 
     D         G/B  Cadd9                              G/B    D 
And they won't even look at us, they call us the har - vest gypsies! 


           D             G/B  Cadd9                         G/B     D 
And the hardest that it's ever been, I sold my blankets for gaso - line, 
           D        G/B Cadd9                      G/B    D 
And it's only hunger I  have seen, now I'm a har - vest gypsy! 


     G       Cadd9  G/B  D/A   Dsus2 D  Dsus4 D  Dsus2 D 
||:  Oh---oh, oh,   oh,   oh!    /___/   /___/     /___/  :|| x3 

  Cadd9   G/B      D 
|  /  /   /  /  |  /  /   /  /  | 


                D       G/B   Cadd9                            G/B     D 
And there's apricots in Santa Clare, at Kern County they have apples there, 
      D                     G/B    Cadd9                    G/B    D 
And grapes they're growing every - where, all for the har - vest gypsies! 


       D            G/B  Cadd9                         G/B   D 
In a walnut grove I met a man, who lost his child be - fore San Fran', 
          D               G/B    Cadd9                     G/B    D 
We're strangers they don't un - derstand, we are the har - vest gypsies! 


           D           G/B   Cadd9                      G/B     D 
And the gondalas and railway lines, filled with men when it is time, 
      D             G/B    Cadd9                G/B    D 
Drawn by the orange and the lime, all the har - vest gypsies! 


     G       Cadd9  G/B  D/A   Dsus2 D  Dsus4 D  Dsus2 D 
||:  Oh---oh, oh,   oh,   oh!    /___/   /___/     /___/  :|| x3 

  Cadd9   G/B      D 
|  /  /   /  /  |  /  /   /  /  | 


      D                 G/B   Cadd9                             G/B         D 
They hate it when their taxes rise, and the squatter camps that they des - pise, 
        D                G/B    Cadd9                   G/B     D 
With - out us they would rot and die, without the har - vest gypsies! 


           D                 G/B   Cadd9                          G/B       D 
And the Holbrook's, we were farming men, and I dream, one day, we will a - gain, 
    D                 G/B    Cadd9                     G/B    D 
To miss the soil's a curious pain, when you're a har - vest gypsy! 


     G       Cadd9  G/B  D/A   Dsus2 D  Dsus4 D  Dsus2 D 
||:  Oh---oh, oh,   oh,   oh!    /___/   /___/     /___/  :|| x3 

Cadd9        G/B               D 
       When you're a harvest gypsy, yeah - eah! 


     G       Cadd9  G/B  D/A   Dsus2 D  Dsus4 D  Dsus2 D 
||:  Oh---oh, oh,   oh,   oh!    /___/   /___/     /___/  :|| x3 

Cadd9        G/B              D     D 
       When you're a harvest gyp - sy!