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Donna Beasley: Music

Cotton

(Donna Beasley)
Home Canned Beats (SESAC)

Thirty-six years in a cotton mill

Is what her daddy knew

Them who pick it, them who weave it

Write lyrics for the blues

 

Cotton, cotton

On his shoes and in his hair

Filling up his lungs, choking off his air

Cotton, cotton

Puts money in his pocket

He can’t knock it

Cotton, cotton

 

Lost his hand in the belly of a loom

He laid it on the altar

Of a big boss man who signs the checks

Of nameless sons and fathers

 

Cotton, cotton

On his shoes and in his hair

Filling up his lungs, choking off his air

Cotton, cotton

Puts money in his pocket

He can’t knock it

Cotton, cotton

 

Will father a daughter and make her blanket

And wrap her up inside it

Send her to school and teach her the rules

For a life she can take pride in

And they will call her

 

Cotton, cotton

Wears his shoes and pulls his hair

Melts his heart, sweetens his air

Cotton, cotton

Takes money from his pocket

He can’t knock it

Cotton, cotton