They loaded up the Model A with the trailer hitched in the yard
When they'd seen she'd hold and wouldn't slip they packed her tight and hard
For our lazy little journey westward where our lives would go so far
We'd leave our dirty aging home all patched and marked with tar

If it were'nt for the rocks in its bed, you know, the stream would have no song
If it were'nt for the dreams my father held we'd just have moped along

Now some men kinda crawl through life never asking why
My Ma, she chose a restless type always reaching for the sky

Good times tomorrow, a few hard times today
I can hear his voice right now explain bad times away
Good times tomorrow, hard times today
Every stream has got a song, like a stream we'll roll along
Hard times won't touch this family

At the port of entry a brown-suit man waved us to a halt
Said we were Tuesday's thousand-sixth as if it was our fault
So we pulled into this camp they had for dirty men and kids and wives
Where we thought of Oklahoma and what's come of our lives

Now some men kinda crawl through life never asking why
My Ma, she chose a restless type though she'd never seen him cry

Good times tomorrow, hard times today
I can hear his voice right now, his hair turned silver grey
Good times tomorrow, hard times today
Every stream has got a song, like a stream we'll roll along
Hard times won't touch this family
Hard times won't touch this family
Hard times won't touch this family

Copyright: WORDS & MUSIC A DIV OF BIG DEAL MUSIC LLC
Writer(s): SID GRIFFIN