It was the third of June, another sleepy, dusty, delta day I was out choppin' cotton and my brother was balin' hay And at dinner time we stopped and walked
I still recall the words she had to say She said, "I'd like to address this meeting of the Harper Valley PTA" Well, there's Bobby Taylor sittin' there
M I double S I double S I double P I M I double S I double S I double P I Right in the middle of the cotton belt Down in the Mississippi Delta Wearin
Papa won't you let me go to town with you Papa I'm feeling so down and blue You just gotta come around, please do Papa won't you let me go to town with
Marigolds and tangerines And lots of rusty window screens Funny Paper, fountain pen And patchwork things to cover in Puppy dogs and potpourri Oh won't
La la la la la Ooh hey hey hey La la la la la Every year about this time the local gentry Have a meeting in Chickasaw land They all come to judge each
Rain on my Sunday shoes Pick up the daily news Looks like tomorrows blues But its better than none Call on the telephone knowin' that he's not home I
Penduli pendulum Swing around, beat the drum In July, I'll deny The illusion I'll be gone, beat the drum There I go, here I come And goodbye means good
Two men sittin' in straight back chairs Feet propped up on the railin' Sittin' in front of the country store Discussin' how the crops were failin' About
Good mornin', mornin' glory Good mornin', what's your story Good mornin', where'd you spend the night Where did your night dreams take you Sorry but
Benjamin rode out of Montana On a Palomino pony He told me he was all alone He lost his family in forty-nine Benjamin took me to San Diego Guess we caused
Beverly packs her lunch pail silently In the light of the dawn's gray gloom In her lonely room Beverly works all day at the factory On her feet from
Here are some samples of the fabric, Miss Morgan I know how painful it must be But I guess it's your responsibility I understand he was your fiancee What
Billy the kid I understand you It really ain't your fault that the west is so wild Billy the kid cain't reprimand you You must have been deprived when
Well, I remember it all very well lookin' back It was the summer that I turned eighteen We lived in a one-room, run down shack On the outskirts of New
Took the Continental Trailways 'Cause I didn't have the fare To get from Cincinnati to Los Angeles by air The guy who said he'd meet me In a shiny limousine
Just outside of delta country Where the bitter weeds growin wild Born seven miles outside of Woodland Was a Chicasaw County child An Poppa done brung
A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain Softly blows over Lullaby bay It fills the sails of boats that are waiting Waiting, to sail your worries away
