As I went walking I saw a sign there And on the sign it said "No Trespassing." But on the other side it didn't say nothing, That side was made for you and me. This land is your land, this land is my land From California to the New York island From the Redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters This land was made for you and me.

Life's pretty tough . . . you're lucky if you live through it.

I got started in Oklahoma. That's where I was born. Population down there is one-third Indians, one-third Negroes and one-third white people.

The world is filled with people who are no longer needed -- and who try to make slaves of all of us -- and they have their music and we have ours.

All about a human being is, it's a great big hoping machine.

It's a folk singer's job to comfort disturbed people and to disturb comfortable people

The world is filled with people who are no longer needed. And who try to make slaves of all of us. And they have their music and we have ours. Theirs, the wasted songs of a superstitious nightmare. And without their music and ideological miscarriages to compare our songs of freedom to, we'd not have any opposite to compare music with - - and like the drifting wind, hitting against no obstacle, we'd never know its speed, its power.