"Mississippi Cotton Pickin' Delta Town" as written by and Harold Kenneth Dorman George W. Gann....
In a Mississippi cotton pickin' Delta town
One dusty street to walk up and down
Nothin' much to see but a starvin' hound
In a Mississippi cotton pickin' Delta town

Down in the Delta where I was born
All we raised was cotton, potatoes and corn
I've picked cotton till my fingers hurt
Draggin' the sack through that Delta dirt

And I've worked hard the whole week long
Pickin' my fingers to the blood and bone
There ain't a lot of money in a cotton bale
At least when you try to sell

In a Mississippi cotton pickin' Delta town
One dusty street to walk up and down
Nothin' much to see but a starvin' hound
In a Mississippi cotton pickin' Delta town

On Saturday nights we'd get dressed up
Catch us a ride on a pickup truck
On a gravel road, it nearly strangled us
That cotton pickin' Delta dust

We'd sit across the street on the depot porch
Lookin' at the folks lookin' back at us
Munchin' on a dust covered ice cream cone
Wondering how we'd get back home

From a Mississippi cotton pickin' Delta town
One dusty street to walk up and down
Nothin' much to do but just hang around
In a Mississippi cotton pickin' Delta town

From a Mississippi cotton pickin' Delta town
One dusty street to walk up and down
Nothin' much to do but just hang around
In a Mississippi cotton pickin' Delta town



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"Mississippi Cotton Pickin Delta Town" as written by Harold Kenneth Dorman George W. Gann

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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Mississippi Cotton Pickin' Delta Town song meanings
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