That old dust storm killed my baby, but it can't kill me, Lord, and it can't kill me. That old dust storm killed my family, but it can't kill me, Lord, and it can't kill me. That old landlord got my homestead, but he can't get me, Lord, and he can't get me. That old dry spill killed my crop boys, but it can't kill me, Lord, and it can't kill me. That old tractor got my homeboys, but it can't get me, Lord, and it can't get me. That old tractor, it run my house down, but it can't get me down, and it can't get me. That old pawn shop got my furniture, but it can't get me, Lord, and it can't get me. That old highway got my relatives, but it can't get me, Lord, and it can't get me. That old dust might kill my wheat boys, but it can't kill me, Lord, and it can't kill me. I have weather, many a dust storm, but it can't get me, boys, and it can't kill me. That old dust storm, well, it blowed my farm down, but it can't blow me down, can't blow me down. That old wind might blow this world down, but it can't blow me down, and it can't kill me. That old dust storm killed my baby, but it can't kill me, Lord, and it can't kill me, and it can't kill me, and it can't kill me, and it can't kill me.