Slave to the South - The Weeks

I’m a slave to the south, it’s a curse on this house

I’ve been dying to leave but I just can’t get out

And I’ve always been drawn to one wooden shack

And a man with the weight of the world on his back

I’ve got dust on my boots, I’ve got tears in my eyes

And I’ll work in these fields for the rest of my life

Like my father before me who worked every day

And I’ll be damned if I let someone take that from me

Well a life full of riches means nothing to me

With a full of joy there that no one can see

And a poor hungry heart that still wants to be free

And somebody there who’s still waiting for me

And I know of a place that gets slow when it rains

With a sky that’s as blue as the blood in my veins

And a burnt cigarette sits on some window pane

With the loud laughs and thunder in a slow southern state

I’ve been raising my hands, I’ve been praying for rain

Well I screamed at the skies but them drops never came

Well with sun on my face and god on my side

Who will I blame if those crops, they don’t rise

Well I always hoped life wouldn’t end up like this

With a well that’s gone dry and a cross in my fist

Well if my hair has gone gray and them rains still ain’t came

Well then well wade in that river, let it take us away

Well a life full of riches means nothing to me

With a full of joy there that no one can see

And a poor hungry heart that still wants to be free

And somebody there who’s still waiting for me

And I know of a place that gets slow when it rains

With a sky that’s as blue as the blood in my veins

And a burnt cigarette sits on some window pane

With the loud laughs and thunder in a slow southern state