The South East Georgia red clay dust is grounding to my blue jeans
A heavy hundred pound cotton sack dragging long behind
Wanting to leave this place so bad I forget how I got here
Working my way back home one row at a time
It's a long old cotton road between here and Waco
Then three days of thumbing to that California line
Then two more days of picking to that house just south of Fresno
Working my way back home one row at a time
Mississippi Delta mud is caked in layers on my brogues
Sunshine on snow white cotton nearly makes me blind
I can almost see them now, the home folk running out to meet me
Working my way back home one row at a time
It's a long old cotton road between here and Waco
Then three days of thumbing to that California line
Then two more days of picking to that house just south of Fresno
Working my way back home one row at a time
Working my way back home one row at a time