D A7
In a Mississippi cotton picking delta town,
D
One dusty street to walk up and down,
G
Nothing much to see but a starving hound
A7 D
In a Mississippi cotton picking delta town.
D A7
Down in the delta where I was born,
D
All we raised was cotton, potatoes and corn,
G
I’ve picked cotton till my fingers hurt,
A7 D
Dragging that sack thru that delta dirt.
D A7
And I’ve worked hard the whole week long,
D
Picking my fingers to the blood and bone,
G
There ain’t a lot of money in a cotton bale,
A7 D
At least not when you’re trying to sell.
D A7
In a Mississippi cotton picking delta town,
D
One dusty street to walk up and down,
G
Nothing much to see but a starving hound
A7 D
In a Mississippi cotton picking delta town.
D A7
On Saturday nights w’ed get dressed up,
D
Catch us a drive on a pickup truck,
G
On a gravel road it nearly strangled us,
A7
That cotton picking delta dust.
D A7
We’d sit across the street on the depot porch,
D
Looking at the folks looking back at us,
G
Munching on a dust covered ice cream cone,
A7 D
And wondering how we’d get back home.
D A7
In a Mississippi cotton picking delta town,
D
One dusty street to walk up and down,
G
Nothing much to see but a starving hound
A7 D
In a Mississippi cotton picking delta town.
In a Mississippi cotton picking delta town,
D
One dusty street to walk up and down,
G
Nothing much to see but a starving hound
A7 D
In a Mississippi cotton picking delta town.
D A7
Down in the delta where I was born,
D
All we raised was cotton, potatoes and corn,
G
I’ve picked cotton till my fingers hurt,
A7 D
Dragging that sack thru that delta dirt.
D A7
And I’ve worked hard the whole week long,
D
Picking my fingers to the blood and bone,
G
There ain’t a lot of money in a cotton bale,
A7 D
At least not when you’re trying to sell.
D A7
In a Mississippi cotton picking delta town,
D
One dusty street to walk up and down,
G
Nothing much to see but a starving hound
A7 D
In a Mississippi cotton picking delta town.
D A7
On Saturday nights w’ed get dressed up,
D
Catch us a drive on a pickup truck,
G
On a gravel road it nearly strangled us,
A7
That cotton picking delta dust.
D A7
We’d sit across the street on the depot porch,
D
Looking at the folks looking back at us,
G
Munching on a dust covered ice cream cone,
A7 D
And wondering how we’d get back home.
D A7
In a Mississippi cotton picking delta town,
D
One dusty street to walk up and down,
G
Nothing much to see but a starving hound
A7 D
In a Mississippi cotton picking delta town.
https://youtube.com/watch?v=b1BuWUYAGFE