Lyrics

About three miles from the Battele yard From the reverse curve on down Not far south of the town depot Sullivan's shack was found Back on the higher ground You could see him every day Walking down the line With his old brown sack across his back And his long hair down behind Speaking his worried mind It's a long way to the Delta From the North Georgia hills And a tote sack full of ginseng Won't pay no travelling bills Now, I'm too old to ride the rails Or thumb the road alone Well I guess I'll never make it back to home My muddy water Mississippi Delta home (Take one, Kenneth) Well, the winters here they get too cold The damp it makes me ill Can't dig no roots in the mountain side With the ground froze hard and still Gotta stay at the foot of the hill But next summer, if things turn right The companies will pay high I'll make enough money to pay my bills And bid these mountains goodbye Then he said with a sigh It's a long way to the Delta From the North Georgia hills And a tote sack full of ginseng Won't pay no travelling bills And I'm too old to ride the rails Or thumb the road alone Well I guess I'll never make it back to home My muddy water Mississippi Delta home It's a long way to the Delta From the North Georgia hills And a tote sack full of ginseng Won't pay no travelling bills Now, I'm too old to ride the rails Or thumb the road alone Well I guess I'll never make it back to home My muddy water Mississippi Delta home
Writer(s): Norman Blake Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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