Talking Columbia

Well, down along the river just a-sittin on a rock
Im a-lookin at the boats in the Bonneville lock.
Gate swings open, the boat sails in,
Toot that whistle, shes gone again .
Gasoline goin up. Wheat comin down.
Well, I filled up my hat brim, drunk a little taste,
Thought about a river just a-goin to waste;
Thought about the dust , an thought about the sand,
Thought about the people, an thought about the land.
Folks runnin round all over creation,
Lookin for some kind of little place.
Well, I pulled out my pencil, scribbled this song,
Figured all them salmon just couldnt be wrong;
Them salmon fish is mighty shrewd,
They got senators and politicians, too.
Just about like the president. They run every four years.
You just watch this river, though, pretty soon
Everybodys gonna be changin their tune;
The big Grand Coulee and the Bonneville dams
Run a thousand factories for Uncle Sam.
And everybody else in the world. Turnin out
Everything from fertilizers to sewing machines,
And atomic bedrooms and plastic --
Everythings gonna be plastic.
Uncle Sam need houses and stuff to eat,
Uncle Sam needs wool, and Uncle Sam needs wheat,
Uncle Sam needs water and power dams,
Uncle Sam needs people, and the people need land.
Course I dont like dictators none myself,
But then I think the whole country had ought to be run by e-lec-trici-ty.