i 'll pick apples this week and potatoes the week after that and when the frost locks up the ground like money inside a bank vault , why , i 'll hop a gs amp ; wm box that smells of sugar-beets and i 'll sit in the corner and pull some hay over me if there is some and i 'll drink me a little drink and chew me a link chew and sooner or later i 'll get to portland or beantown , and if i do n't get busted by a railroad security dick i 'll hop one of those `` bama star boxes and head down south and when i get there i 'll pick lemons or limes or oranges .