| Oh, my family grew cotton and cotton was all we knew
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| Butter came from butter beans and it all went in a stew
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| We lived off our victory garden and the neighbors did so too
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| Some years the dust was so ruthless, this cotton was all we grew
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| When there’s no more cane on the grasses
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| And the oil is gone in the gulf
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| When the wells are dry on the flatlands
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| Cotton’s all we got, cotton’s all we got
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| In the days before the power lines when L B J taught school
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| We dreamed of a fairer nation and promised to change the rules
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| To build a great society and all the folks in the same room
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| Fighting a war on poverty and taking us to the moon
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| When there’s no more cane on the grasses
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| And the oil is gone in the gulf
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| When the wells run dry on the flatlands
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| Cotton’s all we got, oh cotton’s all we got
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| Then the wind will feed the power lines where once it was dust that blew
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| All along the Chisholm Trail where cotton’s all we knew
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| When there’s no more cane on the grasses
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| And the oil is gone in the gulf
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| When the wells are dry on the flatlands
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| Cotton’s all we got, oh cotton’s all we got
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| Cotton’s all we got |