In a Mississippi cotton pickin' delta town One dusty street to walk up and down Nothing much to do but hang around 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 'til my fingers hurt Draggin' a sack through the delta dirt I've worked hard the whole weeklong Pickin' my fingers to the blood and bone Ain't a lot of money in cotton bale At least when you try to sell In a Mississippi cotton pickin' delta town One dusty street to walk up and down Nothing much to do but hang around In a Mississippi cotton pickin' delta town On Saturday night, we'd get dressed up Catch us a ride on a pickup truck On a gravel road that 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 In a Mississippi cotton pickin' delta town One dusty street to walk up and down Nothing much to do but hang around In a Mississippi cotton pickin' delta town