Legacy
It is a legacy
It was handed down to me
My poor dirt farmer
And skinny mule
You parched the red clay
Like it was the red sea
It is a legacy
To both me and you
You are a black man
I am a white man
Both come from southland
Both doing the best we can
Well, the grim reaper
Is my brother's keeper
Oh, the way my brother was kept
Small wonder Jesus wept
It is a legacy
Passed down to you and me
What we're taught to believe
We never question these things
It is a legacy
It's a wild and bitter seed
Blown across these fertile fields
Where the roots run deep
We both got calloused hands
Blue collared working men
Down here in Bubba land
What's in a name
Both living rent or rent
Oh, some owe the government
Oh, we are quite different
We are the same
It is a legacy
Passed down to you and me
What we learn to believe
We never question these things
It is a legacy
It's wild and bitter seed
Scattered on these fertile fields
Where the roots run deep
Where the roots run
Where the roots run
Where the roots run deep
Sundays we congregate
We praise Jesus pass the plate
Sitting in our Sunday best
Singing hymns and moping sweat
You know we learn the golden rule
On separate Sunday schools
And our house long divided against itself
And it is a legacy
Passed down to you and me
What we choose to believe
We dare not question these things
It is a legacy
It's a wild and bitter seed
Scattered on these fertile feilds
Where the roots run deep
Yeah, where the roots run deep
Where the roots run deep, oh
Where the roots run deep, oh
Where the roots run deep
Thank you
It was handed down to me
My poor dirt farmer
And skinny mule
You parched the red clay
Like it was the red sea
It is a legacy
To both me and you
You are a black man
I am a white man
Both come from southland
Both doing the best we can
Well, the grim reaper
Is my brother's keeper
Oh, the way my brother was kept
Small wonder Jesus wept
It is a legacy
Passed down to you and me
What we're taught to believe
We never question these things
It is a legacy
It's a wild and bitter seed
Blown across these fertile fields
Where the roots run deep
We both got calloused hands
Blue collared working men
Down here in Bubba land
What's in a name
Both living rent or rent
Oh, some owe the government
Oh, we are quite different
We are the same
It is a legacy
Passed down to you and me
What we learn to believe
We never question these things
It is a legacy
It's wild and bitter seed
Scattered on these fertile fields
Where the roots run deep
Where the roots run
Where the roots run
Where the roots run deep
Sundays we congregate
We praise Jesus pass the plate
Sitting in our Sunday best
Singing hymns and moping sweat
You know we learn the golden rule
On separate Sunday schools
And our house long divided against itself
And it is a legacy
Passed down to you and me
What we choose to believe
We dare not question these things
It is a legacy
It's a wild and bitter seed
Scattered on these fertile feilds
Where the roots run deep
Yeah, where the roots run deep
Where the roots run deep, oh
Where the roots run deep, oh
Where the roots run deep
Thank you
Credits
Writer(s): Antonio Gambale, Jamie Matthew Stevens, Manuel Sharrad, Francis Eugene Xavier
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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