Band Of The Grenadiers - King Cotton lyrics

KING COTTON Pick the cotton and pick the cotton and pick the cotton some more! Youre pickin cotton until you drop Youre never getting away Youd rather be in a coffee shop With fish and chips on your tray. Youre bendin down Your back is broke Your fingers ache and Your feet are smokin Your head is numb Your legs are gone And youve got nothing to say Youre pickin cotton the whole day through Until the evening is done Youll never get a vacation or a getaway for some fun You grind your knees into the dirt You rip your pants and you tear your shirt But you cant complain, your backs in pain And you get nothin for pay Cause that sonavab**h will never let you Take a break at all, Youll never get any food Or water, juice or alcohol So pick your cotton, boy. This rotten Day has just begun, and you will Not be done with pickin till its Later in the Fall Im tellin you what my life is like So listen up my friend My mother is holding up all right Although her back dont bend We pick all day, we pick all night And when the day is over we can Grab a little nap and then we do it all again. TRIO Youll never guess how much I really love this job, So, Im giving you fair warning I love the foreman who can make my mother sob While cotton pickin in the morning. You see that ba*tard with the whip? His name is Bob. Woke me up at five this morning, Youll never know how much Id love to stab that slob And spread his guts to rot til dawning DOGFIGHT Youve got to Bend down, open a boll Pick out the fluff, bag it! If your bags getting full Harder to pull, drag it! Fill the bag my friend Fill it once again Do it till your fingers bleed, boy! TRIO (REPRISE) Youll never know how much I love plantation life, Full of sweet perfume and romance; Youll never know how much Id like to use Bobs knife To separate him from his gonads.