The Work Song

Back before the blues were blue
When the good old songs were new
Songs that may no longer please us
'Bout the darkies, about Jesus
Mississippi minstrels, color of molasses
Strumming on their banjos to entertain their masses
Some said garbage, others said art
You couldn't call it soul, you had to call it heart

Woah, backs broke bending, digging holes to plant the seeds
The owners ate the cane and the workers ate the weeds
Putting wood in the stove and water in the cup
You worked so hard that you died standing up

When I was a little thing
My papa tried to make me sing
"Home Sweet Home" and "Aurelie"
These were songs that my daddy taught me
"Camp Town Races" and "Susannah Don't You Cry"
"Gentle Annie" still brings a tear to my eye
Label it garbage, label it art
You couldn't call it soul, you had to call it heart

Oh, backs broke bending, digging holes to plant the seeds
The owners ate the cane and the workers ate the weeds
Putting wood in the stove and water in the cup
You worked so hard that you died standing up

Sing me songs 'bout days gone by
Make me laugh and make me cry
Break my female heart in two
Sing me songs that say I love you
Lower your eyes and raise your hand up to your breast
Sing me one about the sun setting in the West
Mm-hmm, mm-hmm

Oh, backs broke bending, digging holes to plant the seeds
The owners ate the cane and the workers ate the weeds
Putting wood in the stove and water in the cup
You worked so hard that you died standing up

Backs broke bending, digging holes to plant the seeds
The owners ate the cane and the workers ate the weeds
Putting wood in the stove and water in the cup
You worked so hard that you died standing up