For years my field would flourish
With a million bolls of white
Each summer I'd grow cotton
And we'd pick it until night

We found our place on Earth
On a lot that God had granted
He blessed us with great harvests
From the seeds that we had planted

One year we saw some trouble
Damn boll weevil caused the blight
But our neighbor said we cursed him
Blamed us cause we weren't white

He said, "Those niggers done this.
Best if theyda stayed their place."
So the town was turned against us
Thought it shameful I'd show face

Every Sunday during service
We'd hear whispers in the pew
"All that land gone to his head!
Now we gotta suffer too."

That sure hurt me down inside
Hearing hateful things they'd say
So I did my best to worship
Sink my head down low and pray

Late a night I asked my wife
If she thought the rumors true
She said, "People got no hope here,
So they take to blamin' you."

On that night I slept a little
Til I woke to hear a choir
Right outside where we were sleeping
They had lit a cross on fire

I know well we weren't welcome
Come the sunrise we would flee
To the North, for somewhere better
Cause I'da died in Tennessee