| At the end of the cotton row
|
| We all saw what were shouldn’t know
|
| Mama stripping off her dress
|
| Laying down in the tall grass
|
| The wind blowing slow
|
| Mama just wants to let go
|
| It’s ok, put the gun down
|
| It’s alright, put the bottle away
|
| Jesse, Jesse, Jesse
|
| It’s ok, put the gun down
|
| It’s alright, put the bottle away
|
| Jesse, Jesse, Jesse
|
| We hear an echo in the trees
|
| As our mama whispers «Please»
|
| A stranger’s body closing in
|
| Kisses mama’s lips again
|
| The sun moving slow
|
| Mama wants to keep it on the down low
|
| It’s ok, put the gun down
|
| It’s alright, put the bottle away
|
| Jesse, Jesse, Jesse
|
| It’s ok, put the gun down
|
| It’s alright, put the bottle away
|
| Jesse, Jesse, Jesse
|
| Lining us up just like dogs
|
| With a gun in your hand
|
| Daddy if you knew the truth
|
| We all think you’d understand
|
| We are dead on our feet, yeah
|
| Mama’s white as a sheet
|
| It’s ok, put the gun down
|
| It’s alright, put the bottle away
|
| Jesse, Jesse, Jesse
|
| It’s ok, put the gun down
|
| It’s alright, put the bottle away
|
| Jesse, Jesse, Jesse
|
| Jesse, Jesse, Jesse |