This land ain't your land, and this land ain't my land
From the California to the New York Island,
From the Redwood Forest, to the Gulf stream waters,
This land ain't here for you and me.
As I went walking that ribbon of highway
And saw above me that endless skyway,
And saw below me the golden valley, I said:
This land ain't here for you and me.
I roamed and rambled and followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts,
And all around me, a voice was sounding:
This land ain't here for you and me.
Was a high wall there that tried to stop me
A sign was painted said: Private Property,
But on the back side it didn't say nothing —
This land ain't here for you and me.
Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back
This land ain't here for you and me.
When the sun come shining, then I was strolling
In wheat fields waving and dust clouds rolling;
The voice was chanting as the fog was lifting:
This land ain't here for you and me.
In the squares of the city, In the shadow of a steeple;
By the relief office, I'd seen my people.
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking,
Is this land made for you and me?
This land ain't your land, and this land ain't my land
From the Patagonia to the Fiji Islands,
From the Redwood Forest, to the Indian Ocean,
This land ain't here for you and me.