Slave To The South

The Weeks

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    I’m a slave to the south there’s a curse on this house
    I’ve been dying to leave but I just can’t get out
    I’ve always been drawn to one wooden shack
    And a man with the weight of the world on his back

    I’ve got dust on my boots, I’ve got tears in my eyes
    And ill work in these fields for the rest of my life
    Like my father before me who worked every day
    And I’ll be damned if I let someone take that from me

    Well a life full of riches means nothing to me
    With a full of joy there that no one can see
    And a poor hungry heart that still wants to be free
    And somebody there who’s still waiting for me

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    And I know of a place that gets slow when it rains
    With a sky that’s as blue as the blood in my veins
    And a burnt cigarette sits on some window pane
    With the loud laughs and thunder in a slow southern state

    I’ve been raising my hands, I’ve been praying for rain
    And I screamed at them skies but the drops never came
    Well with sun on my face and with god on my side
    Who will I blame if those crops, they don’t rise

    Well I always hoped life wouldn’t end up like this
    With a well that’s gone dry and a cross in my fist
    Well if my hair has gone gray and those rains still ain’t came
    Well then well wade in that river, let it take us away

    Well a life full of riches means nothing to me
    With a full of joy there that no one can see
    And a poor hungry heart that still wants to be free
    And somebody there who’s still waiting for me

    And I know of a place that gets slow when it rains
    With a sky that’s as blue as the blood in my veins
    And a burnt cigarette sits on some window pane
    With the loud laughs and thunder in a slow southern state

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