Sharecroppin'

Sharecroppin'

Sandspurs, and briars thick as fleas on a dog
The only rain we get is thick fog
Eatin' side meat from a piney woods hog

I started farming, Saturday was two years ago
The wolf is breathing hard at my door
I built myself a little cabin outta scrub oak
And now, it's root hog or die poor

Starving, I'm living on side-meat and greens
And catfish from a muddy old stream
I ain't got a dime in my jeans

Raining, like pouring water out of a boot
My cotton's washed away by the roots
Somehow, no more I don't give a hoot
My crops are floating downstream since night before last

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