| I’m a slave to the south, it’s a curse on this house
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| I’ve been dying to leave but I just can’t get out
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| And I’ve always been drawn to one wooden shack
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| And a man with the weight of the world on his back
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| I’ve got dust on my boots, I’ve got tears in my eyes
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| And I’ll work in these fields for the rest of my life
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| Like my father before me who worked every day
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| And I’ll be damned if I let someone take that from me
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| Well a life full of riches means nothing to me
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| With a full of joy there that no one can see
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| And a poor hungry heart that still wants to be free
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| And somebody there who’s still waiting for me
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| And I know of a place that gets slow when it rains
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| With a sky that’s as blue as the blood in my veins
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| And a burnt cigarette sits on some window pane
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| With the loud laughs and thunder in a slow southern state
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| I’ve been raising my hands, I’ve been praying for rain
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| Well I screamed at the skies but them drops never came
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| Well with sun on my face and god on my side
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| Who will I blame if those crops, they don’t rise
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| Well I always hoped life wouldn’t end up like this
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| With a well that’s gone dry and a cross in my fist
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| Well if my hair has gone gray and them rains still ain’t came
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| Well then well wade in that river, let it take us away
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| Well a life full of riches means nothing to me
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| With a full of joy there that no one can see
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| And a poor hungry heart that still wants to be free
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| And somebody there who’s still waiting for me
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| And I know of a place that gets slow when it rains
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| With a sky that’s as blue as the blood in my veins
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| And a burnt cigarette sits on some window pane
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| With the loud laughs and thunder in a slow southern state |