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Our Singing Country |
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Chorus:
I'm a-gonna starve, ev'rybody will. You can't make a livin' at a cotton mill.
2 When you go to work, you work like the devil, At the end of the week you're not on the level. Pay day comes, you pay your rent,
When you get through, you've not got a cent To buy fat-back meat, pinto beans 3 Now and then you get a turnip green. No use to collect, they're all that way, You can't get the money to move away.
3 Twelve dollars a week is all I get— How in the heck can I live on that?
I got a wife and fourteen kids, We all have to sleep on two bedsteads. Patches on my breeches, holes in my hat, Ain't had a shave since my wife got fat. No use to collect, ever' day at noon— Kids get to cryin' in a different tune.
4 They run a few days, and then they stand, Just to keep down the workin'man.
We'll never make it, we never will,
As long as we stay in a roundin' mill.
The poor are gettin' poorer, the rich are gettin' rich,
If I don't starve, I'm a son of a gun.
No use to collect, no use to rave,
We'll never rest till we're in our grave.
Chorus:
If I don't starve, nobody will,
You can't make a livin' at a cotton mill. |
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