| I think I see a wagon rutted road
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| With the weeds growing tall between the tracks
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| And along one side runs a rusty barbed wire fence
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| And beyond that sits an old tar paper shack
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| Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| Oh, Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| I think I hear a noisy old John Deere
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| In a field specked with dirty cotton lint
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| And below the field runs a little shady creek
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| And there you’ll find the cool green leaves of mint
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| Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| Oh, Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| I think I smell the honeysuckle vine
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| The heavy sweetness like to make me sick
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| And the dogs, my God, they’re hungry all the time
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| And the snakes are sleeping where the weeds are thick
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| Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| Oh, Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| I think I feel an angry oven heat
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| The southern sun just blazes in the sky
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| In the dusty weeds a fat grasshopper jumps
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| I want to make it to that creek before I fry
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| Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| Oh, Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| Mississippi, you’re on my mind
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| Oh, Mississippi, you’re on my mind |