I don't want, no cornbread, peas, black mola**es
I don't want, no cornbread, peas, black mola**es
At suppertime, Lord, Lord, Lord, at suppertime
I got a letter, a letter from my mother this morning
I got a letter, a letter from my mother this morning
She said, "Come home", Lord, Lord, Lord, "Son, come home"
I ain't got no, got no ready-made money
I ain't got no, got no ready-made money
I can't go home
If I could make June, July and August
If I could make June, July and August
Then I'd go home, Lord, Lord, Lord, then I'd go home
'Cause I don't want no cornbread, peas, black mola**es
'Cause I don't want no cornbread, peas, black mola**es
At suppertime, Lord, Lord, Lord, at suppertime