I left the bigfoot country when I was a boy. Had some kinfolks in Chicago, Illinois.
Farming just weren't my thing. Wanted to be a guitar man.
Momma's tears come a-down like rain.
Back in Mississippi-hey.

Trouble and bad luck liked my company. Took me to California, (well at least where it crossed 26th Street).
I didn't mean nobody no harm. County jail worse than Parchment Farm.
We didn't have no gangs down home
Back in Mississippi-hey.

I made a record and even got on the radio. I would've kept making music but it only kept me poor.
Well now I play in the church once in awhile. That kind of music never goes out of style.
Well I learned it as a child
Back in Mississippi-hey.

Steel plants and factories broke my back. But they paid good wages, else we went on strike. Well the unions was the first to go. Jobs today, well it pays so low.
Well I hear there's work down home
Back in Mississippi-hey.

And I believe I've stayed up north here long enough. Have had some good times but mostly things been rough.
Well Chicago's so g______ cold. Chilled my natural body, almost took my soul.
I'll spend the rest of my days down home
Back in Mississippi-hey.

That's where I'll be found. Where the people close to the ground.
Back in Mississippi-hey.

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