every day was wrong

he said it was in Mississippi
or deep inland Alabama
where i worked the fields every damn hot summer
all night long
every day was wrong
aching back
and no lunch to pack
no northern railroad track
but i've got me a fine plantation sack.
baby, i sang my blues away
swatting flies in the stinking mud
tired bones and worn out head
just like Mr. Bossman said
freedom was a long road from here
no heavenly angel would appear
no answered prayer
here or there
all night long
every day was wrong
aching back
and no lunch to pack
no northern railroad track
but i've got me a fine plantation sack.
he said it was in Mississippi
or deep inland Alabama
where i worked the fields every damn hot summer
all night long
every day was wrong
aching back
and no lunch to pack
no northern railroad track
but i've got me a fine plantation sack.