| I’ve sung this song, but I’ll sing it again | 
| Of the place that I lived on the wild windy plains | 
| In the month called April, county called Gray | 
| And here’s what all of the people there say | 
| CHORUS: So long, it’s been good to know yuh | 
| So long, it’s been good to know yuh | 
| So long, it’s been good to know yuh | 
| This dusty old dust is a-gettin' my home | 
| And I got to be driftin' along | 
| A dust storm hit, an' it hit like thunder | 
| It dusted us over, an' it covered us under | 
| Blocked out the traffic an' blocked out the sun | 
| Straight for home all the people did run | 
| Singin' | 
| We talked of the end of the world, and then | 
| We’d sing a song an' then sing it again | 
| We’d sit for an hour an' not say a word | 
| And then these words would be heard | 
| Sweethearts sat in the dark and sparked | 
| They hugged and kissed in that dusty old dark | 
| They sighed and cried, hugged and kissed | 
| Instead of marriage, they talked like this | 
| «Honey…» | 
| Now, the telephone rang, an' it jumped off the wall | 
| That was the preacher, a-makin' his call | 
| He said, «Kind friend, this may the end | 
| An' you got your last chance of salvation of sin!» | 
| The churches was jammed, and the churches was packed | 
| An' that dusty old dust storm blowed so black | 
| Preacher could not read a word of his text | 
| An' he folded his specs, an' he took up collection | 
| Said | 
| So long, it’s been good to know yuh | 
| So long, it’s been good to know yuh | 
| So long, it’s been good to know yuh | 
| This dusty old dust is a-gettin' my home | 
| And I got to be driftin' along |